Intimate Read online

  Intimate

  By

  Donna Huxley

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  INTIMATE

  Although the unscrupulous Porter Deman had hounded Anna out of her job and seen to it that she couldn't get another one, things could have been worse—for didn't her future lie with Marsh Hamilton now? Why should she care about her job any more?

  First published 1984

  Australian copyright 1984

  Philippine copyright 1984

  This edition 1984

  © Donna Huxley 1984

  ISBN 0 263 74796 4

  CHAPTER ONE

  Porter Deman swung his desk chair abruptly to face the young woman before him. A sigh of irritation passed his curled lips.

  'You're making this very difficult, Anna,' he said quietly. 'Difficult for yourself.' His cajoling voice was tinged with an undertone of menace which sent a cold chill down Anna's spine.

  The springs of his chair groaned quietly as he rocked, his eyes exploring the gentle waves of Anna's auburn hair. The office was silent, its calm disturbed only by the distant thrum of computers printing out sheets of data for waiting secretaries.

  Shocked into speechlessness by the insolence of his proposal, Anna Halpern stood livid and trembling with outrage before the man who contemplated her.

  'I… I can't believe this,' she said finally, her voice threatening to break under the strain of her position. 'I've worked here for four years, and no one has had occasion to complain about me. Quite the contrary, in fact. And now you come along. You've only been here six months, and…'

  'But I'm here now, aren't I?' he drawled, self-satisfaction glimmering in his cold grey eyes. 'So you'll have to deal with that fact. That's what I've been trying to explain to you for weeks, Anna. But you don't listen, do you?' Again he sighed with feigned exasperation. 'And you see where your obstinacy has got you.'

  Anna stared in helpless wonderment at the figure before her. His thinning grey hair immaculately tonsured so as to conceal the onset of baldness, Porter Deman was dressed as usual in an obviously expensive three-piece suit whose fine lines minimised the slight paunch around his waist. He was the very image of complacent wealth and influence. His tanned face and taut skin bespoke long hours spent at a health club in a deliberate effort to hold off middle age.

  The day he had replaced Tom Green as manager of Anna's research department at N.T.E.L., she had studied his cold eyes and abrupt manner, and concluded that he might be a demanding boss. But in the last month she had realised how catastrophically she had misjudged him. Ever since the first evening he had invited her to dinner, in his oddly dictatorial way, she had begun to fear him. And gradually, as though inevitably, it had come to this.

  'Well?' he asked. 'I'm waiting to hear what you have to say for yourself.' His lip curled ironically as his eyes slid over her slender shoulders, coming to rest languidly on the sleek curve of her breasts under the silky fabric of her blouse. With studied impudence, he allowed his stare to stray to her hips, and downward along the rich line of her thighs, before returning his gaze to her deep emerald eyes.

  'What I have asked of you,' he drawled, 'is not only quite simple, but also essential to the good working relationship I must have with you. It is a very common thing, I can assure you, and not at all worth staying awake nights over. But, as I've tried to make you understand, it is necessary.' His eyes bored into her. 'Necessary,' he repeated darkly. 'You don't seem to comprehend the meaning of that word.'

  'Necessary,' she retorted, her anger boiling over, 'that I should go to bed with you, simply because I work under your direction for this company?'

  'Now you're putting words in my mouth,' he corrected with a slight smile. 'It's simply a question of a close personal relationship facilitating an efficient professional one. You state it far too bluntly.'

  'That's beside the point,' Anna said firmly, controlling her revulsion with difficulty. 'I know what you mean to say, so there's no sense in denying it.'

  'Listen, Anna,' he warned. 'I understand that this all may seem strange to you. It may seem unfamiliar, since you've apparently led a rather sheltered life, but you're simply going to have to wake up to a simple truth. This is,' he said, weighing the words deliberately, 'the way things are done, the way the world is. Now, you'll just have to learn to play the game according to the rules, or get out. I mean what I say, now.' Severity resounded in his deep voice.

  She felt herself flush under the insolence of his exploring gaze and the unbearable arrogance of his words.

  'I… I need this job,' she said quietly, her courage flagging. 'Can't you understand? I can't afford a change of jobs at the moment. I need the income in order to keep financing my sister's education. She doesn't have anyone else. I simply can't afford to be fired, because of your…'

  He smiled, his eyes glistening dewily with undisguised desire. 'That's exactly my point,' he said. 'You can't afford to go against the grain, so why spite yourself by refusing to do what I ask? If you had had an open mind about things weeks ago, you would never have got yourself into this fix in the first place. Things would have fallen into place, and you wouldn't have had a thing to worry about.'

  His tone became more cajoling as he stepped around the desk toward her. 'Think of it this way,' he said. 'I'm not an unattractive man, if I say so myself. I'm not so bad to look at, am I?' He smiled, his finger stroking her hair.

  Unnerved by his nearness, Anna stared beyond him at the painting behind his desk.

  'Is it so terrible,' he went on, his finger straying gently to her shoulder, its meandering movement leading ever downward, 'to think of sharing a little closeness with me? A little human tenderness?'

  Anna shuddered, her nerves crying out in exasperation as the cloying scent of his cologne filled her nostrils. His hands closed around her waist, pressing warmly at the creamy flesh under her skirt.

  'That's not so bad, is it?' he whispered, his lips touching the soft hollow of her neck. 'There's no one here. We're alone. Why don't you relax and let yourself go, just this once?'

  'Take your hands off me!' Her tense voice resounded warningly.

  'Don't destroy yourself,' came his low murmur, 'out of silly stubbornness. Don't be a little fool. I can make you happy.'

  Unable to bear his touch an instant longer, she stepped back a pace, her eyes still locked to the meaningless form of the painting on the wall.

  She heard a stifled growl of frustration, and felt his hands grasp her purposefully.

  'Come on,' he whispered, his lips approaching her own. 'Give me what I want, and I'll take care of you.'

  'No!' she heard herself cry as the limits of her self-control exploded. The image of her upraised hand seemed a dream before her tormented eyes, but the resounding slap she had planted square in the centre of his cheek was no dream, as the tingling in her palm made perfectly clear.

  He stepped back, the growing anger in his cold eyes alloyed by a shadow of genuine shock which gave Anna an inner spark of satisfaction, despite her panic.

  He sat down behind the desk, a sore red spot beginning to colour his cheek.

  'You shouldn't have done that,' he said. 'You have made a big mistake, young lady.' His eyes glistened with fury.

  'You gave me no choice,' Anna said quietly, her hopes collapsing inside her breast. 'I… I can't give you what you want. It just isn't in me. You had no right…'

  'Your explanation comes too late,' he said darkly. 'I'm afraid you've succeeded in destroying what chance remained for you to solve this… dilemm
a.'

  'What are you saying?' she asked, the colour leaving her cheeks.

  'It's quite simple, Miss Halpern,' he smiled sardonically. 'Your days at N.T.E.L. are numbered. I would say, as a matter of fact, that time has about run out for you. A pity, too. You were so happy here, and your work was appreciated. I shall never understand how certain people can simply throw away what was most important to them.'

  'I can report you,' she told him, her thoughts racing to find a weapon she could use against him. 'Sexual harassment is against the law. My work is well known here, and I'll be taken seriously.'

  Porter Deman chuckled, shaking his head.

  'It's been tried,' he said. 'It never works when the executive involved is important. And I am important, Anna. Far more important to this company than you. I'm sure you're somewhat aware of the lengths your employers went to woo me away from Cambridge Manufacturing. You see, they need me—they need my abilities. And even if your complaints were taken seriously enough to introduce the shadow of a doubt into my colleagues' minds, you would still lose your job. No one likes a troublemaker, Anna.'

  'I'll take the chance,' she retorted.

  'Go ahead,' he laughed. 'Be my guest. Speak to Charles Robbins, or even the President. Speak to anyone you please. You'll see. You'll be greeted warmly, and you may be lent a sympathetic ear. But in the end, no matter how much your superiors seem to be on your side, you will be politely asked to change your tune or pick up your pink slip. It's a man's world, Anna. If you try to fight it, you'll be wasting your time. But,' he added, a darker look clouding his grey eyes, 'I wouldn't advise that.'

  'Why?' she asked, her hatred and contempt threatening to overwhelm her fears.

  'In any case, you're through at N.T.E.L. But if you should be so foolish as to cause me any embarrassment, I can assure you I am capable of a revenge that won't end overnight. I can quite easily see to it that you don't work anywhere in this business. Ever.' he smiled smugly. 'Do you follow me?' he asked.

  'I'm sure you overrate your influence,' Anna said tartly.

  'If I were in your shoes, young lady,' he warned, 'I wouldn't take the chance of finding out.'

  Pale with anger and hurt, she stood for a long moment regarding the reclining man behind the desk. His cold, nearly colourless eyes looked out at her like those of a serpent, expressionless and dangerous.

  At last she sighed. 'I would like to know,' she said, 'What makes you think you have the right to ruin other people's lives, when they've never done a thing to you, simply because of your pathetic, cheap desires.'

  Anger showed in his pupils. 'Get out!' he growled.

  'You'd better start seeing to your things—you'll be leaving us soon!'

  Anna closed the door quietly behind her, determined not to allow her anguish to attract the attention of the other employees. Porter Deman was left alone in the silence of his office, his chin resting on his hand, his eyes staring before him with an expression of alert intensity. For an instant a look of concern clouded his grey irises. Then he reached for the telephone.

  The green eyes which looked out at Anna from the ladies' room mirror had a haunted expression. Even the emerald glow of her irises, normally the most striking feature of her face, seemed blunted by the pressure of the emotions she fought to control. The creamy complexion of her cheeks shone pale under the harsh fluorescent light, making the flowing auburn tresses of her hair seem unusually dark by contrast.

  Grateful for the solitude of the empty bathroom, Anna stared intently at her image, struggling to put this morning's events into some sort of perspective.

  'Calm down,' she told herself firmly. 'You're all right. Nothing has changed.' Despite his sinister demands and threatening behaviour, Porter Deman was surely bluffing. If he made a serious attempt to have her fired, she would simply defend herself with the truth. Her four years of invaluable service to N.T.E.L. would carry considerable weight in comparison with the unsupported claims of one executive who had joined the company only recently.

  And she would not hesitate to tell the whole truth, she resolved. No amount of embarrassment could prevent her from exposing Porter Deman for the contemptible bully he was.

  With a rueful smile she thought of the unpredictable and even rash personality which lurked under her calmly efficient exterior. Her stinging slap had surprised her as well as its victim, for in her years at N.T.E.L. she had grown accustomed to keeping her impulsive nature in check, in the interest of her sister's security as well as her own.

  In the mirror her admirably sensual figure was highlighted by the silky fabric of her blouse. The gentle swell of her breasts, shaken now by the short, nervous breaths she took, still glimmered with feminine grace. Despite the crawling of her skin, her image remained vibrant and healthy, as though lit from within by the stubbornly independent personality whose wrath Porter Deman had unwittingly tempted.

  'Anna,' a voice startled her suddenly, 'are you all right?'

  As Debby Johnson's short figure came into view next to her own, Anna realised she must have been too preoccupied to hear the other woman come into the room. Debby's bright brown eyes, normally glinting with mischievous good humour, were clouded by concern as she put a hand on her friend's shoulder.

  The sudden appearance of a friendly face was a welcome release after the tension Anna had just experienced, and she smiled gratefully.

  'I didn't see you come in,' she said. 'I must have been lost in thought.'

  'What did Deman want?' asked Debby, her intuition startling Anna.

  'Oh, nothing much,' Anna replied. 'The usual.' She was uncomfortably aware that her flushed cheeks and tense demeanour contradicted her casual words.

  'He didn't say anything to upset you, did he?'

  'Not particularly,' Anna lied, determined not to refer directly to the disturbing scene that had just taken place. 'Why should he upset me?'

  'Listen,' Debby pursued, her brown furrowed in concentration, 'I don't want to pry, Anna, but I've noticed how edgy you've been every time Deman has shown his face, these past weeks. As a matter of fact, I've been meaning to talk to you about him. He's dangerous.'

  'I suppose you're right,' Anna agreed ruefully. 'But he doesn't scare me.'

  'That puts you in a league by yourself,' Debby frowned. 'Things haven't been the same around here since Deman showed up. He's got a lot of people pretty frightened.'

  'How do you mean?' asked Anna. But her glance at her friend's troubled features left little doubt as to what was in her mind.

  'I'll tell you what,' said Debby, 'let's have lunch and talk this over. I have a feeling we can enlighten each other about Porter Deman, and maybe do something about him.'

  Anna hesitated, weighing her reluctance to talk about what had happened against the obvious advantage of confiding in someone she could trust.

  'All right,' she said at last, reasoning that if Porter Deman had made his threat in earnest, she might soon find herself in desperate need of an ally.

  The corridor seemed crowded with secretaries and research personnel as Anna and Debby approached their office. N.T.E.L.'s normally quiet workings often burst into a sudden tumult of activity just before the noon hour, as reports had to be completed, letters signed, and meetings hastily terminated.

  'Hey there!' came a familiar voice behind Anna as she passed the elevators.

  Turning to see the perpetually laughing face of Bob Samuels, the company's Vice-President in charge of Research, Anna smiled in greeting. As luck would have it, her momentary inattention to the busy corridor before her sufficed to cause a small collision, and she found herself immobilised by two powerful hands which had closed around her slender arms.

  'Sorry,' she heard a deep voice say as she turned to face the tall form she had nearly bumped into. Looking upward past the deep chest at the level of her eyes, she met a dark gaze whose trace of irritation was combined with a glint of amusement.

  'Excuse me,' she said, annoyed as much by the mockery in the ebony irises looking d
own at her as by her own clumsiness, 'I wasn't looking where I was going.'

  'My fault,' Bob interrupted, coming to a halt beside her. 'I shouldn't have distracted you, Anna. You haven't met Marsh yet, have you?'

  'No,' she answered, darting a diffident smile of inquiry at the stranger who stood before her.

  'Well,' Bob laughed, 'this is as good a time as any, since I've caused you to literally bump into each other. Marsh, this is Anna Halpern, one of our research geniuses. Anna, meet Marsh Hamilton. He's working on our contract with Arons and Birnbaum.'

  'How do you do, Mr Hamilton,' said Anna, covering' her embarrassment with an air of detached politeness.

  'Call me Marsh.' The black eyes staring down at her shone with easy familiarity amid the strong lines of a sun-bronzed face. A large hand grasped her own in self-assured friendliness as she noted the dark brow and chiselled jaw which heightened the aura of daunting male strength surrounding Marsh Hamilton.

  'Marsh's firm is collaborating with our own legal department on Arons and Birnbaum and some other accounts,' Bob explained, adjusting his glasses with his accustomed nervous energy. 'We're attempting to give him first-class treatment, since he's been kind enough to work with us personally. It's not usual for a partner in the firm to roll up his sleeves, so to speak, and dig into contract details with our young lawyers upstairs.'

  'I enjoy it,' said Marsh, his eyes not leaving Anna. 'Gives me a chance to get out of the office. Besides, I think it makes for a better result if your people can connect Feuerbach, Smith and Hamilton with a face.'

  The face of Marsh Hamilton would be hard to forget, Anna reflected. Underneath its veneer of calm amiability, one sensed a mixture of sharp determination and unlimited energy which seemed almost reckless. It was the face of a man whose self-confidence had long since triumphed over any obstacles life might have placed in his path.

  No wonder, she decided, that he was already a partner in his firm, although the strong lines of his face suggested he was still in his mid-thirties.