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he assured.

      Silke laughed softly. ‘I’m sure it is,’ she said with certainty. ‘And while I might think it’s wonderful that you’ve sorted out your differences and decided to get married, I know someone else who won’t be so happy about it.’ She raised pointed brows at Henry.

      ‘Lyon!’ he said with feeling.

      ‘Exactly.’ She grimaced.

      Henry’s mouth tightened determinedly. ‘I’ll deal with Lyon,’ he told them forcefully.

      After Lyon’s reaction yesterday to believing Silke was the one who was about to marry his uncle, she didn’t think he would be any more enamoured of the idea of her mother doing so. But if Henry thought he could ‘deal’ with him... She just hoped her mother didn’t get mown down in the crossfire!

      ‘We’ll deal with him together,’ her mother spoke up firmly, the determined glitter in her eyes immediately dispelling any doubts Silke might have had about her mother’s being able to stand up to Lyon—her mother looked like a Sherman tank about to do battle with the enemy!

      In fact, her mother’s next words confirmed that that was exactly how she felt about it. ‘After all, he’s only a Buchanan,’ she said hardly.

      Again there was that edge to her mother’s voice when talking about Lyon Buchanan, and Silke couldn’t help wondering if he had somehow been involved in the past break-up of the older couple. Although Silke didn’t remember Henry Winter being one of the men her mother had been involved with when she was with her as a child, and, if her mother’s and Henry’s relationship had been before Silke was even born, then Lyon would only have been a child himself, surely making it unlikely that he could have any serious effect on two adults? No doubt she would get the full story from her mother—when she could manage to drag herself away from Henry’s side!—and until then Silke knew she would just have to be patient where her own curiosity was concerned.

      She straightened. ‘I’ll get back to the agency,’ she told her mother, smiling affectionately as her mother reluctantly made to rise. ‘I think you can take one day off, Mummy; after all, it isn’t every day you become engaged!’ And she had never seen her mother look so happy.

      Her mother was even blushing like a schoolgirl as she stood up to hug Silke. ‘I’ll explain it all to you later, darling. I promise.’

      As Silke went back to the office she knew it wasn’t her the other couple should feel apprehensive about explaining things to, that Lyon was going to be the one they should be wary of, despite Henry’s determination where his nephew was concerned.

      It also dawned on her—horrifically!—that there was no longer any chance of her never seeing Lyon again, that once her mother married Henry Lyon would somehow be related to her. What a dreadful prospect!

      ‘There’s someone waiting in the office to see you,’ the agency secretary told Silke as soon as she walked in through the doorway.

      ‘Someone to see—’ Silke broke off her puzzled question as she guessed from Jackie’s flustered expression exactly who her visitor was; who else would be arrogant enough to demand admission to her mother’s private office! ‘Lyon Buchanan!’ she said with feeling.

      Jackie looked even more agitated. ‘I don’t know who he is, he didn’t deign to give a name, but he’s arrogant as Old Nick! I told him you wouldn’t be back until later, but he insisted on waiting for you. I—’

      ‘Don’t worry about it, Jackie,’ Silke soothed distractedly, glancing towards the closed inner office door, behind which she was sure Lyon Buchanan lay—sat—in wait for her. ‘I quite understand your dilemma; Old Nick has nothing on this man!’ She paused near the inner office door. ‘And if one or both of us isn’t out of this office in five minutes, then I want you to call the police—because we’re probably murdering each other! Only joking, Jackie,’ she assured with a rueful smile as the other girl looked more worried than ever. ‘As far as I’m aware, he isn’t physically violent.’ It wasn’t necessary when you were verbally capable of demolishing someone!

      He wasn’t sitting at all when Silke entered the office, but standing in front of the window, the weak March sunlight behind him clearly outlining the powerful strength of his body, the darkness of his hair taking on a silvery sheen, his hands—those hands she had to avoid looking at because their beauty totally belied the arrogant hardness of the rest of this man—thrust into the pockets of his tailored trousers. Thank God!

      As he stepped forward out of the sunlight his face was thrown into sharp profile, those grey eyes taking on a silver intensity. Silke had no idea why he had returned so quickly after their heated exchange yesterday, but he certainly didn’t look as if he was about to offer her an apology for his behaviour!

      In fact, his next words confirmed it. ‘So you’ve finally managed to drag yourself away from my uncle’s side?’ he taunted.

      Silke drew in a long, controlling breath; instantly losing her temper with this man wasn’t going to help the situation. If only he didn’t have the ability to make her do that so easily! ‘Mr Buchanan,’ she greeted calmly, closing the door firmly behind her, relieved that she was at least dressed in a businesslike way this morning, her black suit complemented by an emerald-green blouse that made her eyes appear greener than ever, her hair a silky blonde cloud down past her shoulders. ‘What can I do for you this morning?’ She pointedly took her seat behind her mother’s desk, forcing him to move away from the window to the other side of the desk if he wanted to look at her while they talked.

      His mouth twisted at her brisk, businesslike tone. ‘It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you,’ he misquoted drily.

      Silke quirked blonde brows enquiringly. What was the man talking about now?

      He sat on the side of the desk, bringing him dangerously close to Silke, his hands out of his pockets now—a fact Silke took care to avoid looking at. ‘How much do you want, Silke?’

      She frowned. ‘You’ll receive the agency account when the bills go out at the end of the month—’

      ‘I’m talking about you, Silke,’ he cut in harshly. ‘How much do you want to get out of my uncle’s life?’

      Maybe her joking advice to Jackie about calling the police wasn’t such a joke after all; Silke felt like doing Lyon a physical injury at that moment! How dared he offer her money in that way? My God, arrogance didn’t even begin to describe this man!

      ‘Don’t look so outraged,’ he drawled tauntingly. ‘This way you get the money but no aged husband.’

      Silke was shaking so badly at this further insult from this man that she had to grip the edge of the desk so that he shouldn’t see the visible trembling of her hands. No doubt Henry was right, and Lyon’s own experiences with women pursuing his wealth rather than him had tempered his own outlook on life, but it didn’t give him the right to judge her by those other women’s standards.

      ‘Name your price, Silke—and then we’ll negotiate something a little more reasonable,’ he ground out forcefully, looking down at her coldly.

      She swallowed hard, breathing deeply. ‘You couldn’t afford me, Mr Buchanan—’

      ‘I don’t want you!’ He stood up abruptly, moving sharply away from the desk.

      Silke looked at him frowningly, at the nerve pulsing in his cheek, his tightly clenched jaw. ‘Don’t you?’ she finally said slowly, knowing even as she said it that he did want her, that Lyon was physically attracted to her himself!

      It was there in the angry flare in his eyes, the thinning of his tautly held mouth, the way his hands were clenched at his sides. She had thought him cold and arrogant, but she could suddenly see a raw, pulsating passion in the dark grey of his eyes. He didn’t want to want her, but he most certainly did!

      ‘You little—!’ He moved too fast for her, Silke being still dazed by her own realisation,

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