A Bad Enemy

‘So I gathered.’ His tone was dry. ‘But this time it wasn’t up to him to decide. And considering it was a matter of life and death, it was probably just as well.’

She said sharply, ‘If Murray is going to die, which I don’t necessarily accept, then he’d rather it was with dignity in his own bed than strapped up to some—electronic miracle.’

‘And if the electronic miracle were to live up to its name and save him—how would you feel then?’

She sank back in her seat, biting her lip. In a low voice she said, ‘He’s an old man, and this isn’t the first attack he’s had. I don’t think I—believe in miracles.’

‘I’d be interested to know what beliefs you do hold, if any,’ said Jake Allard. ‘But that can wait. In the meantime, perhaps you could control your most obvious doubts, especially in front of Murray.’

‘Of course I will!’ she said indignantly. ‘What do you take me for?’ As soon as the words were spoken, she could have kicked herself.

She didn’t have to look at him to know he was smiling.

‘Another point for discussion at a later date, Miss Bannerman.’

Her hands clenched in her lap, the nails curling involuntarily into her palms. Was it possible that Murray could trust this man, like him—even tolerate him?

She saw the lights of the hospital in the distance with a strong feeling of relief. She would soon be rid of him, she thought. No doubt he had come to fetch her to Murray’s bedside out of consideration for the older man, but as Murray’s collapse had necessarily curtailed the discussions they had been having, there was no reason for him to linger, as she was prepared to make more than clear.

As the car turned in between the tall gates, she said, ‘I’d be grateful if you could drop me at the main entrance.’

‘I hate to pass up a novelty like your gratitude,’ he said. ‘But I’m afraid I can’t do as you request. I’m putting the car in the car park, and then we’re going in to see Murray together.’

Her voice shook with temper. ‘Forgive me, but aren’t you taking this togetherness thing a little too far? I’m sure you—intend to be kind,’ she added with heavy irony, ‘but from here on in, I’m sure Murray would prefer to see only members of his immediate family.’

‘Namely you and your brother, whenever he turns up.’ Jake Allard swung the car deftly into a spot between two other vehicles, and braked.

‘As a matter of fact, yes.’

He shook his head, as he switched off the lights and the ignition, and pocketed the keys. ‘I’m afraid it isn’t as simple as that, Miss Bannerman. There are other factors to be taken into account.’

‘Such as your overweening desire for control of Harlow Bannerman,’ Lisle asked sarcastically. ‘You can hardly badger Murray with business propositions now.’

‘I never did,’ he said flatly. ‘All the initial approaches have been made by him. Whatever your brother may choose to think, it’s Harlow Bannerman that needs Allard International at this juncture, and not the other way round. You’re a member of the company, Miss Bannerman, and a shareholder, presumably. Don’t you ever look at reports and balance sheets? I recommend that you do so, and in the near future. It could be instructive.’

She fumbled for the door catch, and the door swung open.

‘I don’t want to hear any more of this,’ she said, as she got out. ‘I’m going to see my grandfather. He’s all I need to know about right now.’

She had long legs and she strode out, hoping that he would take the hint and stay where he was, but when she reached the electronically operated sliding doors to the main foyer, he was beside her.

Lisle turned to him, her face frozen. ‘This is getting ridiculous.’

‘I quite agree,’ he said grimly. ‘Perhaps before you go rushing off in all directions to intensive care, you might care to listen to me for a moment. There’s something you ought to know.’

She looked up into the harshly unsmiling face, her green eyes widening. ‘There are—other complications? He can’t—oh God, he can’t be—dead already, and you haven’t told me?’

‘Of course not. But you’re right that there are complications—although it’s true to say that Murray is causing them, not suffering from them.’

Lisle felt unutterably weary. She slid a hand round the nape of her neck, freeing her heavy fall of copper hair from the confines of her coat collar.

‘All the complications seem to be in your head, Mr Allard. Could you explain more clearly, if you must, and a damned sight more quickly.’

‘Last time I gave you bad news, Miss Bannerman, you complained because I didn’t break it to you gently.’

‘Oh, I’m not listening to any more of this!’ Lisle turned away impatiently, but he detained her, taking her arm, not gently, and pulling her round to face him.

‘Yes, you are,’ he grated. ‘You’re going to listen, you spoiled little bitch, so that if Murray is conscious and able to speak, you’ll be able to tell him what he wants to hear.’

‘That I’m delighted he’s apparently selling out to you?’ Lisle demanded, green eyes sparkling. ‘The words would choke me.’

‘Then chew them well,’ he came back at her, his mouth twisting. ‘Because it’s no business deal he wants you to approve. What Murray’s waiting to hear is that I’ve asked you to marry me—and that you’ve agreed.’

CHAPTER TWO (#ue885cf81-97b1-5822-9665-485ebaad1f1f)

THERE was a long screaming silence.

At last, Lisle said huskily, ‘You—cannot be serious.’

Jake Allard said with a kind of weary impatience, ‘Is it likely I’d be joking—about such a thing—and at a time like this?’

She looked at him blankly. ‘But Murray couldn’t—he wouldn’t. …’

‘Wrong on both counts, I’m afraid.’ The grey eyes flickered over her, then still holding her arm Jake began to propel her towards some of the tan leather benches, placed back to back in the main reception area. He said abruptly, ‘Sit down. I’m going to phone up to the unit and see if they’re ready for us.’

Lisle was thankful to feel the solid support of the bench under her. Her mouth was dry and she was shaking from head to foot. She found herself thinking with sudden mocking clarity that if she collapsed, at least it would be in the right place. She placed her folded hands on her knees, and sat staring at them, noticing almost detachedly the white knuckles, the strained grip of the slender fingers. She felt shattered. Incapable of assimilating what Jake had said, or rationalising it.

It seemed a very long time before Jake came back, but she knew that in reality it was only a few minutes. She looked up at his dark face, mentally bracing herself for more bad news, more shocks, but his cool, guarded expression gave nothing away.

‘Sister says fifteen minutes. We’ll go to the cafeteria and wait there.’

She didn’t even think of protesting. She went with him across the foyer to the lifts. An elderly man holding a bunch of flowers, a youth, barely out of his teens by the look of him, with his arm tenderly round the shoulders of a massively pregnant girl were already waiting. As the lift began its upward journey, Lisle found her gaze straying constantly to the young couple. The girl’s left hand with its wide golden band lay protectively over her distended abdomen, and although she was clearly nervous, she was smiling up at her husband, her eyes bright with excitement and happiness.

Marriage, Lisle thought numbly, the ultimate partnership. Sharing a life, sharing a bed, conceiving a child in mutual passion, caring for it together ….

She glanced at Jake and found him watching her with such irony that her face was flooded with sudden, burning colour.

The cafeteria was a dazzle of bright lights, stainless steel, and red formica-topped tables with matching plastic seats. The coffee was surprisingly good and came in thick white institutional cups. Lisle refused anything to eat, but Jake bought a round of cheese sandwiches and ate them with every evidence of enjoyment. When he had finished, he pushed the plate away and looked at her.

‘For God’s sake stop staring at me as if you expect to be leapt upon at any moment,’ he said. ‘I promise you nothing could be further from my mind.’

‘I wasn’t!’ Lisle denied indignantly. ‘But you can’t expect to—to spring things on me like that and expect me to take it in my stride.’

‘I suppose not.’ He gave her a long, considering glance. ‘Well, Miss Bannerman, I think we’d better talk—or may I call you Lisle, seeing that we’re practically engaged.’

‘We are not engaged!’ Lisle returned her cup to its saucer with a bang that even put that sturdy china at risk. ‘I’d rather die!’

‘Death before dishonour?’ The firm lips curved in frank amusement. ‘That’s a curiously old-fashioned viewpoint.’