Seduced by the Billionaire Page 7

  Her hand went to her glass of mineral water and she used her fingers to rotate the glass, seeming to be weighing her response. ‘My parents were marine biologists,’ she said at last.

  ‘I see.’ Why had she hesitated? Surely her parents’ occupations were no state secret yet again he sensed a mystery. ‘Did they have an area of specialty?’

  She nodded. For a moment her knuckles went white as she tightened her grip on the glass and he wondered why she was so uptight about her parents.

  When she spoke, her gaze focused on the glass. ‘They studied water toxicity and how the growth rates of seal pups have been affected by toxic chemicals that transfer across the placenta and are present in the mother seal’s milk.’

  Finally he sensed an opening—a way to establish interest and common ground. ‘Perfluoroalkyl substances, polychlorinated Biphenyls and DDT are a few of the problem pollutants.’

  Her head jerked up. ‘You know about the studies?’

  He placed his glass down on the table. ‘Those chemicals and plastics are two of the most immediately recognisable problems facing marine life.’ With a shrug he asked, ‘Why are you surprised I know about them? I am a founding director of NOCO.’

  He watched as she clenched her jaw.

  She pulled her head back a little and stared straight at him as she delivered her insult. ‘I considered your directorship may simply have been a way to garner a good reputation.’

  Nick was speechless. Everything in her expression was an accusation and she pinned him with her gaze as though she expected him to deny it.

  What did she expect him to say?

  You’re right. I’m really a drunken, debauched, drug-taking toff who couldn’t care for anything more than maintaining my honourable reputation while I secretly lead a hedonistic existence.

  His normally healthy blood pressure reading would probably break any blood pressure monitor at this moment because his anger skyrocketed.

  Where the hell did this woman, who made a living from image, get off implying that he was all about presenting a favourable image and in a tone that hinted that it might not be deserved?

  Exerting enormous self-restraint he wondered whether she’d sustained some sort of head injury that made it impossible for her to filter her words. She sure as hell lacked refined social skills.

  It was a struggle not to put her in her place, but he chose to ignore her slur on his character. ‘Despite a ban on the chemicals, some are still found commonly in packaging, carpets and textiles. They find their way into the water and into the systems of marine life. I understand the seals have been affected very adversely.’

  For a moment, she simply looked at him. Accusation turned to resentment and perhaps even disappointment flitted through her eyes when she hadn’t been able to goad him into a fight.

  Her full lips flattened momentarily before she spoke. ‘Being mammals, the seals are at risk because they’re up the food chain and they eat the fish that have the toxins in their bodies.’

  ‘From what I’ve read the blubber in seals and whales is particularly susceptible,’ he continued with far more civility than she deserved. ‘The contaminants can especially interfere with the seal pups’ ability to gain vital fat.’

  She nodded. ‘The killer whale population around the UK has also been affected and this issue could drive populations towards extinction.’

  He sensed she was testing him but he couldn’t figure out why.

  ‘It’s the tip of the iceberg,’ she continued. ‘It’s only one of the problems facing one group of marine animals. Even in the news recently there’s been a pregnant whale washed up on a beach with a belly full of plastic.’

  He looked closely for her response as he said, ‘Our plan was to send you to the Great Barrier Reef to highlight the problems there. Perhaps you’d prefer to stay closer to home and present a report on the issues facing the seal population and other animals in the seas around the UK?’

  ‘I believe I told you to find someone else.’

  At this point, Nick would love to do exactly that. He cursed Max and Luca for insisting she be signed to the deal. The only positive in his mind was that she was knowledgeable and appeared to be genuinely invested in the topic.

  In unison they reached out to take the top menu.

  Their fingers brushed and damned if the mere touch didn’t send a bolt of heat racing up his arm and then all the way down to his groin.

  Bloody hell!

  He didn’t like the woman. How could he possibly be so physically aware of her?

  Neanderthal was the term Jocelyn had used.

  No. Nick was more evolved than that. He told himself again that superficial beauty counted for nothing. He would control this ridiculous pull of chemistry he felt for a woman he was fast coming to despise.

  Still, there was no denying the chemical attraction was mutual.

  Sarah pulled her hand away as if she’d been burnt and used her other hand to rub up that arm while her eyes widened and her pupils flared.

  Not going to happen.

  It was a complication he didn’t need.

  Ignoring what had just passed between them and refusing to concede defeat over her failure to agree to commit to the documentary Nick continued. ‘The Great Barrier Reef has lost half its coral cover over the last thirty years. There’s been coral bleaching due to climate change and there have also been outbreaks of deadly crown-of-thorns starfish due to pollution. It’s another region facing serious issues that we need to act on quickly.’

  She grabbed a menu then settled back in her chair. ‘We may be able to negotiate a deal before our five hours are up.’ Very slowly she opened the menu and began to peruse it.

  Suspicion gnawed at him as he also took a menu and began to read it.

  Her about-face was too quick and her tone was still too frosty—as though it was costing her to be polite.

  He’d been in too many boardroom meetings not to realise that she had a hidden agenda.

  Making a quick selection of what he wanted to eat, he replaced the menu on the table. He knew it wouldn’t be long before she outlined her terms. He smelled it like a shark smells blood in the water. The only problem was that she was the shark here, swimming around him in ever decreasing circles and waiting to move in for the kill. It wasn’t a familiar scenario for him.

  The waiter returned and no sooner had he taken their orders than she said, ‘Tell me more about the plans you have for this documentary.’

  ‘You’re sincerely interested?’

  The smile she sent him looked forced and her words when she spoke were too amiable. ‘I’m here until midnight. We can talk about the documentary or the weather. I’ll let you choose.’

  How was he even remotely attracted to her? She was cold and blunt to the point of rudeness.

  How had Jocelyn thought she was warm and generous?

  Although he suspected his outline would fall on deaf ears he decided to proceed. ‘We’d fly to Cairns in the north of Australia and then go out to the Great Barrier Reef. What we want to do is highlight the problems, encourage people to lobby governments to do more to protect the reef, but also throw shared responsibility back on to the regular person and talk about how each and every one of us can do our bit for ocean conservation.’

  ‘You plan to be present throughout the filming?’

  ‘Max, Luca and I would each have various meetings to attend with government officials and other conservation groups while you do the filming with the professional film crew.’ Hopefully he’d have as little as possible to do with this woman. ‘We’d fly from Cairns to the Philippines where blast or dynamite fishing continues to wreak havoc, then to Tanzania where this type of destructive fishing also occurs on a large scale.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’re planning to take the trip. I thought you’d have a business empire to run.’ The thoughtful expression she adopted struck him as manufactured. ‘Then again I think I read somewhere you have a thing for yachts?’

&n
bsp; What the hell was that supposed to mean?

  Again he swallowed the words and suppressed the need to walk out on her and tell his friends that they could sign her if they wanted to but he didn’t ever want to see her again.

  ‘I have no idea what you’re alluding to. I don’t own a yacht. As for taking time away from business, we have brilliant management teams in our joint and separate enterprises. It makes us reasonably hands-off in the day-to-day running of things and allows us to oversee our different concerns and to use our time and our wealth to agitate for conservation.’

  ‘That’s very noble of you.’

  Her tone was bland. On the surface, it could’ve been a compliment, but given her previous hostility, Nick called her to task. ‘Just what is your problem, lady? I’ve had enough of your less than subtle accusations and the negative character aspersions you’ve made. I know damned well there’s nothing I’ve done or said that should’ve caused offence so what the hell happened between us in a past life?’

  Colour flushed through her from her neck up to her cheeks. Initially he thought he’d finally admonished her, but when their eyes met, there was a huge clash. She wasn’t apologetic, she was furious.

  ‘You own Hertherington Estate,’ she bit out.

  What? Her animosity had something to do with the estate? ‘Yes. What of it?’

  ‘Are you aware there’s been an offer to purchase the estate so it can be used as a respite facility for—?’

  ‘I’m aware.’

  ‘I’d like you to sell the estate to the Extend Foundation.’

  Finally her agenda was revealed. But, his refusal to sell Hertherington in no way explained her complete animosity towards him.

  ‘Hertherington is not for sale.’ Every word was a grave warning that she shouldn’t trespass on a subject that remained extremely emotional for him, but this thick skinned woman had the temerity to ignore all his verbal and non-verbal Keep Out signals.

  ‘I’m told you visit only twice a year.’ The words were an accusation and unwittingly she prodded at a raw wound.

  ‘I said it’s not for sale.’

  ‘I’ve seen photos of the manor house.’ Her demeanour changed. Now there was an almost pleading note in her voice as if she urged him to be reasonable. ‘It’s huge and with all the facilities it has it could be used to bring so much pleasure to—’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Why not? The director of Extend did his research and it’s not an ancestral home for the Hendersons or the Davenports.’

  ‘It’s my home.’ It was the home Mandy had fallen in love with. The home that held so many memories—some memories so beautiful he couldn’t bear to sell but others so painful that he couldn’t bear to visit more frequently than twice each year.

  She threw her hands up in the air and her tone was scoffing. ‘You call a place you visit twice a year home?’

  Why the bloody hell was he even allowing this conversation to continue?

  ‘My reasons for keeping Hertherington are not open for discussion.’

  ‘If you won’t sell it, would you lease it?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then we’re at an impasse.’ She sat back and folded her arms across her chest. ‘If you agree to sell Hertherington, I’ll make the time to do the documentary for NOCO. That’s my deal, take it or leave it.’

  His teeth almost ground together at her arrogance. As much as he wanted to tell her to go to hell and call it quits for the night he asked, ‘Why Hertherington?’

  ‘It has everything Extend needs—plenty of rooms to accommodate children with disabilities and their families for a week or weekend of respite, an indoor pool so they can have hydrotherapy sessions …’

  She’d morphed into a different woman.

  Now she was soft and pleading and it didn’t come across as a contrived attempt to change his mind. Her heartfelt passion for the cause was in every word and gesture. Now he saw the warmth within her that shone through her eyes. The ice had melted and it seemed she genuinely wanted to support those with disabilities, and their families.

  ‘Hertherington ticks every box on my … on the director’s list. He tells me all he needs to do is add a couple of ramps, a lift, and do a little modification to the bathrooms.’ Every movement of her elegant hands was a gesture of appeal. ‘Otherwise it’s perfect.’

  ‘Except it’s not for sale.’

  She slumped back against the chair and scrunched her serviette in her fist as she muttered, ‘Well that’s the whole point of the evening in tatters and we haven’t even had first course. The rest of the evening promises to be fun.’

  It was instinctive for him to try to help someone who looked so forlorn—even if she was the most objectionable individual he’d ever met. ‘There must be other country homes that are suitable as respite centres.’

  ‘There must be other people that are suitable for television documentaries.’

  Back to square one.

  He had to unclench his jaw to speak. ‘Dealing with you is like trying to break through a brick wall head first.’

  Her mouth tightened before she said, ‘I’d hoped you might be prepared to make this a win-win deal.’

  Win-win?

  She had no idea what she asked of him.

  ‘I will not, under any circumstances, sell Hertherington.’ When distress bracketed her mouth his negotiation techniques kicked in and he sought for a compromise as he did in every deal he brokered. ‘I can, however, have some of my staff meet with the Director of the Extend Foundation and work out the exact needs of the organisation. I would then be prepared to have my people assist in finding an alternate country home.’

  She sat a little straighter and there was a keen light in her eyes. ‘I can take that to the director.’

  Who was this woman?

  He was really no closer to solving the puzzle of Sarah Bryant who seemed to have more sides than the most complex polygon. Whatever the reason for her dislike of him, she seemed to be prepared to bury it to achieve a favourable outcome for the foundation.

  ‘I know why you’re interested in ocean conservation. Do you have any personal reason for becoming patron of this organisation?’

  Faster than he could blink, her posture revealed sudden tension and he could see all the barriers had been erected again.

  ‘My reasons for becoming patron of Extend aren’t open for discussion.’

  That was it. He’d had enough and to hell with trying to work her out. Some individuals were simply born obstinate and disagreeable.

  ‘My sister was wrong about you,’ he vented scathingly. ‘I’m damned if I can find one single thing about you that I like and—if my friends weren’t so hell-bent on following the advice of the market researchers and having you do this documentary—I’d drop the idea like a hot potato.’

  ‘Believe me, I’m no more enamoured of you than you are of me,’ she shot back, ‘which brings me to my second proviso.’

  He rolled his head a little and let out a short breath of exasperation. ‘Oh, I’m sure it’ll be priceless. I can’t wait to hear it.’

  ‘If you agree to sell Hertherington or manage to find another estate that the director of Extend is happy with, I’ll agree to work for NOCO but only if you assure me that I’ll be able to liaise with one of the other directors and not with you.’

  His laughter mocked her. ‘Done. As they’re the ones who wanted you, I think it’s only fair that they should have to deal with you.’

  He pushed his chair back from the table. ‘I don’t see any further point in enduring the rest of the evening.’ Reaching into his wallet and grabbing out a business card he threw it onto the crisp linen tablecloth in front of her. ‘You can pass my details on to the director of Extend and have him call me. I’ll be happy to arrange for someone to work with him to find a suitable location—regardless of whether or not you agree to film the documentary.’

  He didn’t care that every other diner watched as he strode angrily through the restaurant,
nor that his expression revealed his mood. Let them guess at what a pain in the arse Sarah Bryant was and he hoped others finally got a glimpse of her true colours.

  An official hurried towards him and waylaid him right at the exit. ‘Sir, Mr Henderson, you’re leaving without having dinner?’

  ‘Sudden case of severe indigestion.’

  ‘But, sir, if there’s a problem—’

  ‘No problem,’ he responded sharply.

  Blast. It wasn’t this guy’s fault his celebrity had turned out to be completely disagreeable.

  In an attempt to assure the guy that he wasn’t angry with the organisation Nick manufactured a smile. ‘I’ll see you at the next fundraiser.’ He clapped the guy on the shoulder. ‘Keep up the great work you do and you’ll always have my support.’

  The man’s relief was evident. ‘Thank you, Mr Henderson.’

  ‘Mr Henderson—Nick—are you leaving already?’

  Shit. He should’ve known members of the paparazzi would still be outside the restaurant and eager to latch onto anything they could for the morning’s newspapers.

  A microphone was shoved in his face. ‘Didn’t dinner go well between you and Sarah Bryant?’

  ‘No comment.’

  As he strode through the group of jostling reporters and photographers, Nick hoped the Leukaemia Foundation would thrive. As for Sarah Bryant … He wished Jocelyn luck with her new model. If he ever saw that woman again—even on a billboard—it’d be way too soon.

  Chapter 7

  Minutes ticked by as Sarah waited in the main reception area of Henderson Haute Couture the following morning, unsure of what sort of reception she’d receive today from Jocelyn after last night’s disastrous encounter with her brother.

  The headlines in two of the morning’s tabloids had screamed: ‘Henderson walks out on Bryant’ and ‘£200 000 Dinner Date Disaster’.

  Sarah rolled her shoulders to relieve some of the tension in her muscles before they set as hard as concrete.

  She cursed Nick Henderson.

  He’d left her feeling small and unreasonable and that’s exactly how she’d appear to anyone who didn’t know what kind of man he really was.