Consequences

Part 7

"Isabelle," Cara knocked tentatively on Isabelle's bedroom door and entered hesitantly. She saw that Isabelle was still awake. "There's a Mr Hawke downstairs. I told him to come back later, but he insisted on talking with you now." Cara could see how tired Isabelle was, knew from experience that Isabelle would be exhausted. "He said it was urgent. And he isn't the kind of man you can fob off."

"Mr Hawke? I don't know a Mr Hawke." Isabelle discarded the pajamas she was about to climb into and reached automatically for the crimson silk shirt and black cords. She dragged them on hurriedly. Her hair was still damp from her shower, and with a resigned look she combed her hair and twisted it into a loose french roll, as she asked tiredly, "What does he want?"

"He wouldn't say. Just that he was here to see you. In person." Cara hesitated. "Look, you go to bed, I'll tell him to come back later."

"You sure it's me? Not Grandma?"

"No. I asked if he meant Mrs Soujour-D'Sa. He said no when I explained she was your grandmother."

"Oh." Isabelle glanced critically at her appearance. Appearances were important. She applied lipstick, foundation and mascara with a quickness that came from habit. She slid her feet into soft leather shoes and winked at Cara, their nanny, cum cook, cum housekeeper cum best friend cum everything. "OK. Well I'd best go see what he wants."

Together they walked down the stairs, but at the bottom of the stairs, Isabelle turned right and headed for the study, while Cara turned left and headed for the kitchen.

Isabelle hesitated, took a deep breath, then opened the door to the study and strode in with a welcoming, pragmatic and gracious smile pinned to her lips.

"Mr Hawke. Good morning." She held out her hand. "I'm Isabelle, I believe you wished to see me."

Although Doug had been expecting the woman in front of him, the reality was more impressive. He'd seen photographs of her yesterday, had heard that she was a beautiful woman. And had come wanting answers. Why would a beautiful, rich, young woman announce her engagement to someone she had never met? Beauty and the beast?

"It seemed appropriate given our engagement." He told her curtly and ignored the outstretched hand. He didn't care if that appeared rude. He was still angry at being manipulated in this way. There was no way he was engaged to this woman.

"I'm sorry?" She queried, and then given that he had no intention of shaking her hand, gestured toward a chair. Did he say engagement? Isabelle kept the surprise from her eyes and voice. Years of presenting a calm, totally unflustered, carefully neutral facade swung into its slot.

It had taken years to perfect, to move from the boisterous, rebellious teenager into a calm, competent young woman. Being forced to take responsibility for the family had a way of doing that. Maybe he just meant a meeting. She couldn't remember organising a meeting with this man. She'd have remembered. He wasn't your average looking guy. But definitely sexy. Dangerous. Way out of her league. That thought was strangely upsetting.

"Please do sit down."

He took a seat on a soft leather couch, somewhat surprised by her calmness and coolness. But then, perhaps she'd been expecting him.

"I'm Douglas Hawke." He stated, watching her jet black eyes, seeing no reaction he added, "You announced our Engagement yesterday."

Isabelle who was about to sit on the single Queen Anne style leather chair nearly missed it as she heard his words again. "I beg your pardon?" She was sure he said engagement. Engagement? Not meeting. Engagement. Was this man a con? There had been several attempts in the last ten years. She'd hardened herself to dealing with men who thought that she had the keys to the Soujour D'Sa wealth. Most she could spot a mile away. She wondered why her radar hadn't picked up on this one. Not that he was the usual type. Most of them were suave, oozed charm and had vacant eyes. This man was unrefined, oozed challenge and had very expressive eyes.

"I tried calling you yesterday." He told her calmly, if she could manage to remain collected, so could he. He banked the irritation that had escalated into annoyance yesterday and then into anger this morning. And he hoped he could hold onto his temper, as he wanted to keep his language clean.

"I wasn't around." Her response was automatic. While Doug was trying to keep his temper in check, Isabelle was trying to work through a range of scenarios. Her engagement? To him? She'd never met him. He was certainly interesting looking. Not handsome in any way or form given the number of scars on his face. But something about him seemed sexy. She had to stifle her laugh of hysteria, when was the last time she had deemed any man to be sexy?

"I gathered that much." Doug saw that she had picked up the tone, because her eyes had flashed for a millisecond. Good, at least he knew she too had a temper.

"Did youjust say I announced our Engagement?"She sunk into the old leather with style that could not be purchased. Doug wasmesmerized as he watched her. Deftly she crossed her legs at her ankles, placedher hands in a loose clasp and rested them on her knees. Her actions spoke ofelegance and refinement. Why would this woman announce an engagement to him.They were chalk and cheese.