Read Online Make Love Not War by Margaret Tanner - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Margaret Tanner
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anxious.” When she got to twenty-nine, she opened the door.
“Well, Caroline.” Bryce smiled, showing a dimple in his chin. “Turn around. You look beautiful.” He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Would you care to come in?” She stepped back a pace as he followed her inside. His eyes took the room in with a single glance. By the expression on his face it didn’t impress him.
“I’m ready. I just have to collect my bag.”
Returning to the room, she found him sitting on the couch, one immaculately-clad leg crossed over the other. He rose to his feet the moment she entered the room. In a dark navy dinner suit with velvet lapels, he looked like a movie star.
“Aren’t you taking an evening jacket or something for your shoulders?” he asked.
“What?” She dragged her gaze away from him. “No, I won’t need one, it’s still quite warm.” Not for a king’s ransom would she tell him she didn’t possess anything suitable.
“Then if you’re ready, we might as well go.”
“I’ve got my shorthand notebook in my bag,” she told him as they headed towards the door.
“Good, I don’t think you’ll need to take any notes, but you never know.”
He put his hand under her elbow as they walked towards the car. How warm and strong his fingers felt. When he had made sure she was comfortably seated, he strode around to the driver’s side and climbed in. She felt like royalty. As they stopped at a set of traffic lights, she reveled in the envious looks cast her way. Now she knew what Cinderella felt like, going to the ball in a fancy coach. Hopefully she wouldn’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight.
She wasn’t a vain girl, quite the reverse, in fact, having been put down most of her life by her mother’s disparaging observations. But tonight she looked well, and she sensed Bryce’s approval. He didn’t speak as they drove along. She didn’t know where they were going and didn’t like to ask. As it turned out, the dinner was being held in a private convention room at the Hilton Hotel.
Bryce parked the car in the hotel car park; once again he put his hand under her elbow when she alighted and static electricity raced up her arm. They received several interested, speculative glances as they made their way up the carpeted stairs leading from the hotel foyer. They stopped at a door embossed with the word “Private” in gold lettering.
They were the last couple to arrive. On Bryce’s entry, several middle-aged executives hastened towards him, bringing their partners with them. Bryce introduced her simply as Caroline. He didn’t bother giving her surname or to add that she was his secretary.
Designer clothes hugged the bodies of the mostly slim women, but her dress would pass the closest scrutiny. Bryce accepted two sherries from a passing waiter. He gave her one and kept the other for himself. She only spoke when addressed directly, but found it easy enough to converse with these women, who thought she must be one of their own kind; wealthy and socially well-connected.
A tall, impeccably-groomed older man strolled over to them. He had steel gray hair and the same eyes as Bryce, Alexander Harrington, without a doubt.
“Oh, Bryce, there you are.”
“Hello, Dad. Didn’t mother come?”
“No. You know why, too. She’s at home with Ashley and Sybil Fontain.”
Bryce gave a careless shrug. “This is Caroline. Caroline, my father.”
“Oh, my dear, I do beg your pardon. I didn’t realize you were together.” He smiled at her and she instantly liked him. She gave a tentative smile back. He surveyed her, taking in every aspect of her appearance without seeming to be rude. Here was a gentleman of the old school. It was written all over him.
“Excuse me, there’s someone I want to see for a moment.” Bryce strode off, leaving Caroline with his father.
“Well, my dear, would you care for another drink?”
“No thank you.”
He helped himself to a dry sherry and
“Well, Caroline.” Bryce smiled, showing a dimple in his chin. “Turn around. You look beautiful.” He stared at her as if he couldn’t believe his eyes.
“Would you care to come in?” She stepped back a pace as he followed her inside. His eyes took the room in with a single glance. By the expression on his face it didn’t impress him.
“I’m ready. I just have to collect my bag.”
Returning to the room, she found him sitting on the couch, one immaculately-clad leg crossed over the other. He rose to his feet the moment she entered the room. In a dark navy dinner suit with velvet lapels, he looked like a movie star.
“Aren’t you taking an evening jacket or something for your shoulders?” he asked.
“What?” She dragged her gaze away from him. “No, I won’t need one, it’s still quite warm.” Not for a king’s ransom would she tell him she didn’t possess anything suitable.
“Then if you’re ready, we might as well go.”
“I’ve got my shorthand notebook in my bag,” she told him as they headed towards the door.
“Good, I don’t think you’ll need to take any notes, but you never know.”
He put his hand under her elbow as they walked towards the car. How warm and strong his fingers felt. When he had made sure she was comfortably seated, he strode around to the driver’s side and climbed in. She felt like royalty. As they stopped at a set of traffic lights, she reveled in the envious looks cast her way. Now she knew what Cinderella felt like, going to the ball in a fancy coach. Hopefully she wouldn’t turn into a pumpkin at midnight.
She wasn’t a vain girl, quite the reverse, in fact, having been put down most of her life by her mother’s disparaging observations. But tonight she looked well, and she sensed Bryce’s approval. He didn’t speak as they drove along. She didn’t know where they were going and didn’t like to ask. As it turned out, the dinner was being held in a private convention room at the Hilton Hotel.
Bryce parked the car in the hotel car park; once again he put his hand under her elbow when she alighted and static electricity raced up her arm. They received several interested, speculative glances as they made their way up the carpeted stairs leading from the hotel foyer. They stopped at a door embossed with the word “Private” in gold lettering.
They were the last couple to arrive. On Bryce’s entry, several middle-aged executives hastened towards him, bringing their partners with them. Bryce introduced her simply as Caroline. He didn’t bother giving her surname or to add that she was his secretary.
Designer clothes hugged the bodies of the mostly slim women, but her dress would pass the closest scrutiny. Bryce accepted two sherries from a passing waiter. He gave her one and kept the other for himself. She only spoke when addressed directly, but found it easy enough to converse with these women, who thought she must be one of their own kind; wealthy and socially well-connected.
A tall, impeccably-groomed older man strolled over to them. He had steel gray hair and the same eyes as Bryce, Alexander Harrington, without a doubt.
“Oh, Bryce, there you are.”
“Hello, Dad. Didn’t mother come?”
“No. You know why, too. She’s at home with Ashley and Sybil Fontain.”
Bryce gave a careless shrug. “This is Caroline. Caroline, my father.”
“Oh, my dear, I do beg your pardon. I didn’t realize you were together.” He smiled at her and she instantly liked him. She gave a tentative smile back. He surveyed her, taking in every aspect of her appearance without seeming to be rude. Here was a gentleman of the old school. It was written all over him.
“Excuse me, there’s someone I want to see for a moment.” Bryce strode off, leaving Caroline with his father.
“Well, my dear, would you care for another drink?”
“No thank you.”
He helped himself to a dry sherry and
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