enjoy parties,’ she said instead. ‘Sorry. I’m sure you can find someone else to be your pretend girlfriend for one night.’
‘Actually no, I can’t,’ he growled as he pulled a face. ‘I’m between fiancées at the moment.’
Cleo smiled ruefully. ‘How unfortunate,’ she murmured, amused by his little-boy pout. ‘Still, I would imagine you know scores of unattached women who would jump at the chance of accompanying you.’
‘True. But all of them would also jump to the conclusion that they were in with a chance to become fiancée number three.’
Cleo bristled at the implication that she wouldn’t do any such thing. And she knew why. Because she was far too ordinary to contemplate anything so extraordinary. The woman who eventually wore Byron’s wedding ring on her finger would be out of the ordinary in every way. He wasn’t about to settle for just anyone. He’d already discarded a Victoria’s Secret model and a stunning actress. Cleo momentarily wondered what it was about them that had caused those break-ups. The articles she’d read about Byron suggested the splits had been his doing. But who knew? Maybe he was a player, even when he was engaged. Wealthy men often were.
‘Come on, Cleo,’ he said with a very bewitching smile. ‘Help me out here.’
It annoyed Cleo how tempted she was to say yes, an answer she knew she would instantly regret. As fascinating as she found Byron, no way would she put herself in a position that would ultimately be humiliating. Neither did she like the idea of being used. It also worried her that this attraction she was feeling could escalate into infatuation, if she spent too much time with him. And she didn’t want that. In truth, Cleo rather liked her independent existence. It made for a stress-free personal life, leaving her to concentrate on the one thing she genuinely enjoyed and that she could count on: her job. The last thing she needed were the emotional upsets that inevitably came with relationships. Just look at the mess Sarah and Scott had been in this past week or so. Far better to steer well clear of the opposite sex, even if it meant spending the rest of her life alone.
Of course, she hadn’t counted on her libido coming back to life in such a remarkable fashion. Still, it was nothing that wouldn’t simmer down, in time. It was a pity she had to spend tomorrow with him. But she was certain she could remain professional in his presence, especially if she established proper boundaries now.
‘I’m sorry, Byron,’ she told him coolly. ‘But I really can’t. Maybe you should just go to your mother’s party alone and face the music.’
‘You don’t know my mother,’ he said drily.
‘Perhaps you should just tell her that you don’t want to get married; that you prefer the life of a...a bachelor.’ She’d almost said playboy, but had known instinctively that he wouldn’t like that tag. Admittedly, Byron wasn’t known for being a heartless womaniser, but his two broken engagements had had a lot of publicity.
A heavy sigh wafted from Byron’s lungs, his eyes rolling in exasperation. ‘That’s the crux of the problem. The fact is, I do want to get married. But only to the right sort of girl, not the kind my mother would dish up to me.’
‘I see,’ Cleo said slowly. ‘And what kind is that?’
‘Oh, you know,’ he said, waving his hand around in a circular fashion. ‘Society princesses whose only aim in life is to marry well, which translates to a husband with money. And lots of it. Then they can live in a Double Bay mansion, dress in designer clothes and have their children looked after by nannies whilst they sit on charity boards or do ladies’ luncheons in between holidays to Tuscany, or possibly to New York, where they can shop their greedy little hearts out.’
Cleo was taken aback by his cynical tirade.
‘You don’t have to marry any of them,’ she pointed out.
‘I don’t intend to,’ he said ruefully. ‘Now. Do you want coffee? Or would you prefer a cognac?’
CLEO RANG SCOTT when she got back to the office, still slightly tipsy, at three-thirty. The time difference between Sydney and Thailand was three hours so she figured Scott would have to be awake. He answered after a few rings, sounding happy.
‘So how did it go with Maddox?’ he asked.
Cleo cut straight to the chase. ‘He wants to visit the refinery. Tomorrow,’ she added. ‘In his private jet.’
‘Oh, hell. That could be a disaster.’
Cleo agreed, but not for the reasons Scott was talking about. Already she was looking forward to seeing Byron again.
‘He has to know the truth sooner or later,’ she said with her usual pragmatism.
Scott sighed. ‘Tell him I’m planning on closing it down until the nickel prices go back up again.’
‘That might be wise.’
‘Aside from that, what did you think of the man?’
‘Not sure yet. He’s very suave. And way too sure of himself.’
‘That’s what Sarah said. She wasn’t a fan when we met him at the races last year. But possibly that was because she didn’t like his fiancée. I gather she’s no longer in the picture, but, still, the crucial point is...does he have shifty eyes?’
Cleo wasn’t sure what he was talking about for a second, until she recalled how she’d recently dismissed a potential investor because he had shifty eyes.
‘No,’ she said with a dry laugh. Byron’s eyes weren’t at all shifty. Instead they were very blue and very beautiful, fringed by lashes that any woman would envy. They were also knowing and intelligent and sexy as hell.
‘Good,’ Scott said. ‘So you liked him, then? In the business sense, that is?’
‘I suppose so. I’ll be able to make a better judgment after tomorrow. Do you want me to ring you again tomorrow night, after I get back?’
Scott’s hesitation was telling. ‘No,’ he said at last. ‘No, don’t do that. I promised Sarah to put work aside for these next two weeks and that’s what I intend doing. Not much I can do from here, anyway. I trust you to make the right calls, Cleo. Only ring me from now on if there’s an emergency.’
‘Okay.’ She decided not to mention that Byron’s accountant was coming to check the books tomorrow as well. He and Sarah obviously needed this time together without the distraction of the business. It wasn’t as though there was anything to worry about. Their own accountant was both meticulous and ethical. Scott didn’t hire any other kind of employee, though he always did a full background check before he employed anyone.
Cleo decided it might be wise to do one on Byron Maddox. Looking up articles on the Internet didn’t quite match a full security check. As soon as she got off the phone to Scott, Cleo rang Harvey, their head of security.
‘Harvey,’ she said. ‘I have a rush job for you.’
‘Shoot.’ Harvey was a man of few words.
‘I want you to find out everything you can for me on Byron Maddox.’ Cleo refused to concede that there was a measure of feminine curiosity driving her request. This was strictly business. Scott was trusting her to negotiate with this man and she wasn’t going to let him down. People always said knowledge was power. That was what Cleo felt she needed before tomorrow. More power.
‘The Byron Maddox?’ Harvey said, sounding surprised.
‘Yes. I have an important business meeting with him tomorrow. Could you email me a full report by ten tonight?’
‘Will do. Boss,’ he added on a drily humorous note, then hung up.
Cleo was smiling as she hung up. She’d rather liked being called