Savage Atonement
Penny Jordan needs no introduction as arguably the most recognisable name writing for Mills & Boon. We have celebrated her wonderful writing with a special collection, many of which for the first time in eBook format and all available right now.She wanted to punish him–not love him!When she was fifteen Laurel had been the victim of an attempted rape, and Oliver Savage was the reporter who had twisted her story, tearing her reputation to shreds and leaving her fearful of every man who came too near.Now, six years later, he was anxious to right his wrong. "I want to help you, Laurel", he'd offered. But Laurel didn't want his help–she wanted retribution. She found it was not that simple.He was a stimulating man, and his every caress weakened her desire for revenge….
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Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
LAUREL sighed as Sally, the office junior, popped her head round her office door for the umpteenth time that afternoon and enquired with breathless anticipation, âHas he arrived yet?â
Barely glancing up from her typewriter, Laurel shook her head, âAnd when he does, I wonât be the first to know, Frances will, and Mr Marshall wonât be too pleased if he finds you in my office again, Sally. You know heâs in a hurry for that photocopying.â
âOh, honestly, you havenât a romantic bone in your body!â Sally complained, ignoring Laurelâs warning. âHere we are, about to receive a visit from practically the most famous writer in the country, and all you can do is moan about old Marshâs photocopying! Arenât you even the tiniest bit excited?â she probed. âI saw him on television the other night, on a chat show. Heâs gorgeous, donât you think so?â
âMr Graves is simply a prospective client as far as Iâm concerned,â Laurel replied repressively. âIâve neither read his books nor seen him.â
âThen youâre missing a real treat on both counts,â Sally told her roundly,â adding enthusiastically, âDonât you think thereâs something smoulderingly sexy about dark-haired menââ?â She broke off when she saw Laurelâs face. Although Laurel had worked for Marshall and Marshall, Chartered Accountants, just as long as she had done herself, and in spite of all her questions, Sally knew little more about the older girl than she had done the first day she took over from Mary, Mr Marshall seniorâs secretary, who had retired.
She could be attractive, if only she would do something about herself, Sally decided judiciously. The single golden bar of sunshine striking across her desk revealed tinges of dark red in the tightly drawn back hair in its neat chignon. Laurel couldnât be more than twenty-one or two, but to judge by the way she dressedâin dowdy tweed suits and matronly blouses, her shoes sensible and sturdy rather than chosen to enhance the delicacy of her narrow bonesâanyone would be forgiven for thinking she was a woman in her forties at least. She never wore make-up, and yet her skin had a translucent quality that Sally frankly envied. No one had ever heard her talk about her family, or indeed about anything unconnected with the office. Did she have a boy-friend? Remembering the way she always looked when the conversation turned towards boys and sex, somehow Sally doubted it. It was her considered opinion that for some reason Laurel had a hang-up about the opposite sex, but none of her probing had been able to reveal why. And yet she liked Laurel. She was the most senior secretary in the large accountancy firm, and yet by far the most approachable. She might drive herself to achieve almost impossible perfection in her work, and yet she always had time to help her, Sally, when the wretched photocopier started to spew out erratic copies; she was never above giving her a hand with the mail or with making the tea. Quite, different from Frances on reception who was supposed to help her.
At the thought of Frances Sally grimaced a little. Trust her to have all the luck! What Laurel had said was quite true; she would be the first one to see Jonathan Graves when he walked into the office, for his appointment with Mr Marshall, and no doubt she would make the most of it. Cat, Sally thought acidly, mentally comparing her own plumb brunette ordinariness with Francesâ cool Nordic looks, to her own detriment.
âAre you honestly not even the slightest bit curious about him?â she questioned Laurel curiously.
A faint smile touched Laurelâs mouth. Poor Sally, she was obviously finding it hard to believe that Laurel didnât share her interest in their latest client. Bitterness replaced her smile. None of the male sex held any interest for her; What she did feel for them was uninterest if they happened to be as dry and distant as Mr Marshall, or a combination of fear and loathing if they happened to show any personal interest in her. It was a reflex action so deeply ingrained in her now that she was unaware of it; unaware of how much she shrank from even the briefest contact.
The trainee accountants in the light, airy room they shared on the floor below often discussed herâsomething which would have horrified her had she known of it, but she had lived deeply embedded in her own shell for so many years now that she was unaware of their thoughts. The male sex was a completely alien race to her. There had been no men at the convent where she had been sent after⦠after she had found herself all alone in the world. Initially they had sent her to a home, but her nightmares, her refusal to make contact with the other teenagers there had resulted in her being removed and sent to the convent.
