Burning With Passion. Emma Darcy

buy the licence, the loss was his, not theirs. She gave him a full eyeful of scorn, then resumed her march from the room, her hair swinging, her hips swinging, and the deal with the German delegation swinging.

      Five pairs of eyes followed her out of the room. No one broke the silence which enveloped them.

      Win or lose, Caitlin didn’t care any more. If David didn’t want to play the hand she had dealt him, that was too bad! As best she could, she had made up for her lapse in carrying out his instructions. The dance with the devil was over. She closed the door behind her with finality.

      That action did nothing to fill the aching void in her heart. Why do women love so foolishly? she wondered. They hurt only themselves.

      Back in her own office, the strong scent of the roses mocked the secret dreams and desires she had so fondly nurtured. The irrational hope she had so blindly fostered in her heart was dead. David Hartley was never going to change. The romance in his soul was encased in concrete surrounded by barbed wire and porcupine quills.

      But it was best not to think about him now. She had to act on the decision she had made. No wavering. No waiting. There would be no softening coming from him. If she took nothing else away from her association with David Hartley, she would take her self-esteem and self-respect.

      Tears pricked her eyes as she walked around her desk and flopped listlessly into her chair. She had been so happy to receive such lovely gifts. Why couldn’t it have been David asking her to ‘be his Valentine’? She had no idea who else might be declaring his interest in her. She wasn’t interested in anyone else. Someone had wasted an awful lot of money on nothing.

      Maybe it was a mistake. Perhaps the Valentine gifts were meant for someone else. A mistake could easily be made because there was no name on the card. She was probably the recipient of mischance and some other woman was missing out on the pleasure meant for her.

      With a heavy sigh, Caitlin rolled her chair around to face her computer. She switched it on and brought up the Microsoft Word program. It wouldn’t take long to type up an official letter of resignation to end her employment by David Hartley. She would leave it on his desk and go.

      Her mother needed her. Her father had to be found. As far as her family was concerned, this St Valentine’s Day had brought nothing but misery and despair. Caitlin hoped she could do more for her parents than she could do for herself. Her one-sided love-affair was definitely on skid-row, but if her parents’ marriage could be rescued, at least that would be something.

      Her fingers flew over the keyboard. She re-read what she had typed on to the monitor, nodded her satisfaction, then switched on the laser printer and waited for the fateful page to roll out.

      She was on her feet, ready to pick up the page and sign her name to it, when she heard her office door open. She glanced around automatically.

      Her heart thudded with apprehension when she saw David enter and close the door behind him. She didn’t want another confrontation with him. What was over was over.

      ‘Caitlin...’

      ‘You’re supposed to be looking after your guests.’

      The printer whirred. She turned back to it. David could say what he liked. She wasn’t going to let it affect her. The page that would put an end to everything between them rolled towards her.

      ‘We’ve gone into recess for twenty minutes to re-establish contact with reality,’ he stated, conveniently forgetting that he had ruled out a recess when she had suggested it. ‘We’re going to relook at what direction we’re all coming from,’ he went on, his voice coming closer and closer. He paused. ‘Caitlin, you were magnificent!’

      An accolade indeed, coming from David, but it came too late. Caitlin steeled her heart against responding to him.

      The phone rang.

      David automatically picked it up. Slowly and deliberately, Caitlin signed her resignation.

      ‘It’s for you,’ he said, holding the receiver out to her.