‘No,’ Sin said. ‘But I was definitely curious enough to know that it might be in my best interest to—see you again. I had a little difficulty tracking you down at first,’ he acknowledged ruefully, ‘but enquiries at the hotel restaurant established that you had been dining with two executives from Wow magazine that evening. It wasn’t too hard to find out the names of those executives, or to make an appointment to see the younger one—’
‘You’re incredible, do you know that?’ Luccy gasped disbelievingly.
He gave an unapologetic shrug. ‘I went along to Bridger’s office this morning and had an illuminating little chat with him before coming to your studio.’
Luccy stared at him. Just stared at him. Sin had—Then he had—And he believed Paul Bridger’s version of what had happened that night rather than her own? It was unbelievable! Absolutely unbelievable!
More than that, it was damned insulting!
‘How very Sherlock Holmes of you!’ she snapped.
‘I thought so.’ Sin’s smile was completely lacking in humour.
She gave a disgusted shake of her head. ‘And that night I thought you were—I believed—You’re no better than Paul Bridger!’
His lips curled with distaste. ‘Not a pleasant individual, I grant you. Although it wasn’t exactly pleasant of you, either, to threaten him with the fact that he’s married.’
‘I didn’t threaten him. You were there in the hallway. You heard some of what was said—’
‘I heard you mention Bridger’s wife,’ he admitted grimly.
Luccy became very still. She had mentioned Paul’s wife to him that evening. But only out of desperation, as a deterrent, not—
‘He expected—He wanted—I only mentioned his wife because I was only trying to remind him of his—of his responsibilities,’ she defended herself, realising just how lame that sounded.
‘He claims you were trying to blackmail him into giving you work. His boss—Dale Harris is his name, I believe?—he seems to believe it too.’
This was a nightmare. An unbelievable nightmare. She had taken Paul and Dale to dinner, had paid for the whole damned evening—and now it seemed she was going to be made to pay in another way, too.
‘Let me try and get this straight,’ Luccy exclaimed. ‘You believe I tried to blackmail Paul Bridger into giving me work on the magazine he works for by threatening to tell his wife that he tried to get me into bed after our business meeting? You’re also of the opinion, based on that belief, that my ultimate intention was to somehow blackmail you, too?’
‘That works for me, yes.’ Sin nodded slowly. ‘But having transferred your attention onto me so impulsively it must have presented something of a problem for you when I told you that I didn’t have a wife, let alone kids.’
Luccy frowned at his continued insistence that she had deliberately planned what had happened between them that evening. ‘Even supposing—just supposing!—that your accusations were true, what do you possibly have that I could want?’
‘Off the top of my head?’ he drawled derisively. ‘Your future employment seems like a good enough incentive.’
Luccy had heard enough. She really had. ‘What future employment are you talking about?’
‘You still have a contract with PAN Cosmetics, I believe?’
Luccy became very still. He had mentioned the PAN contract earlier today, too. As he had just mentioned her future employment…
‘What does any of that have to do with you?’ she asked warily.
Mocking brows rose over those icy grey eyes. ‘Still pretending ignorance, Luccy?’
She wasn’t pretending at all! But she had a definite premonition she wasn’t going to like his answer when it eventually came!
‘Sleeping with the boss just isn’t what it used to be, is it?’ he derided.
The boss? What boss?
The only boss Luccy had came with her contract with PAN Cosmetics…
She swallowed hard. ‘You work for PAN Cosmetics?’
He gave an impatient sigh. ‘I own PAN Cosmetics, Luccy. As you are well aware,’ his voice grated harshly.
He owned…?
Luccy didn’t just stare at him now—she goggled. ‘Jacob Sinclair is head of Sinclair Industries, the company that owns PAN Cosmetics…’ Was that strangulated voice really her own?
‘Yes.’
Luccy could barely breathe now. ‘But Jacob Sinclair is—Isn’t he an elderly man, almost eighty?’
‘Jacob Senior is eighty, yes,’ Sin confirmed. ‘He also stepped down as Chairman of Sinclair Industries almost ten years ago. As I’m sure you are well aware,’ he added pointedly.
And why should she have known that? She worked exclusively with PAN Cosmetics, not Sinclair Industries.
Luccy could only stare at Sin as she waited for him to drop the next bombshell—one that she was sure was going to completely devastate her!
‘Ordinarily, his son, Jacob Junior would have inherited that position, of course, but unfortunately Jacob Junior was killed in a car accident ten years ago.’ His eyes were cold as he looked at Luccy.
Luccy moistened suddenly dry lips. ‘So who did take over as chairman?’
Sin gave a weary sigh. ‘Do we really have to continue with this act of ignorance on your part?’
‘Just humour me, will you?’ she rasped, totally agitated as he continued to play with her.
His mouth tightened. ‘Jacob Sinclair the Third, Jacob Senior’s only grandchild now controls all the companies under ownership by Sinclair Industries. Which, of course, includes PAN Cosmetics.’
Luccy’s eyes widened as the truth suddenly hit her with the force of a blow to the chest. ‘You?’
‘Me.’ He gave an unpleasant smile.
Him. He was Jacob Sinclair the Third. The grandson—and the only grandchild!—of Jacob Sinclair Senior.
The man who had become Luccy’s lover three days ago…
The man who now believed—with the help of that lying louse Paul Bridger!—that she had deliberately transferred her attentions to him that evening because she had spotted a bigger fish to fry.
Her cheeks burned. ‘I didn’t know!’ she gasped weakly. ‘How could I possibly have known when you introduced yourself to me only as Sin that night?’ she added accusingly.
‘You introduced yourself only as Luccy, remember?’
‘That was because—because—’
‘Because you had recognised me in the restaurant earlier but didn’t want me to know who you were!’ A nerve pulsed in his tightly clenched jaw.
If Luccy had recognized this man as Jacob Sinclair three evenings ago, in the restaurant or anywhere else, then they wouldn’t even be having this conversation!
Not that it mattered now. This man owned and ran Sinclair Industries, and consequently owned PAN Cosmetics, too.
The same man who was going to ensure that Lucinda Harper-O’Neill never worked for PAN Cosmetics again. Or possibly anyone else, either?
‘Don’t look so downcast, Luccy,’ he jeered. ‘You aren’t the first woman to use her body in order to try to get what she wants.’ His mouth tightened.
Luccy stared at him. ‘This—Are you saying