Читать книгу Web Of Darkness - HELEN BROOKS, Helen Brooks - Страница 7

QUITE how she found herself cradled in the strong, hard arms Janie never did know, but the big masculine chest was incredibly comforting as she howled out her misery, in spite of it belonging to the perpetrator of all the pain.

When the tempest had ceased and her weeping had died to the odd hiccuping sob, he put her firmly to one side.

‘So your grievance is genuine,’ he stated expressionlessly. She glanced up at him quickly, noting that the hard blue eyes were guarded and there was a subtle change in him she couldn’t quite discern. His mouth was still cruel and cynical, the deep lines grooved either side of his nose still fiercely prominent and the overall impression was still one of ruthless ferocity, and yet…there was some-thing. ‘I can recognise real misery when I see it, Miss Gordon,’ he said slowly, ‘but your actions are still inexcusable. You could have made an appointment to speak with me at any time to sort out this misunderstanding——’

‘Misunderstanding!’ She reared up like a small tigress. ‘There’s no misunderstanding, believe me, and you can’t fool me like that either; I’m not stupid.’

‘I won’t make the obvious retort to that statement,’ he said coldly. ‘Your actions speak far louder than any words of mine could do. How long has it been since your father died?’ he finished abruptly.

‘Two years.’ She stared at him tightly.

‘Did you cry when he died?’ He ignored the painful tensing of her body, his face demanding an answer.

‘Well, of course…’ Her voice trailed away as her brow puckered in thought. ‘No, I suppose not, not really.’

‘That is very bad for your soul.’ She stared at him in surprise. It was the last thing she had expected from a callous, harsh entrepreneur like him. ‘It creates a darkness, like a web, that blankets everything.’

‘Look, I’m fine.’ She straightened slightly as she spoke, her chin jutting out aggressively. ‘There’s nothing wrong with me.’ The last words were full of meaning and he nodded slightly, his eyes hardening.

‘I take it we’re back to the accusations?’

‘Oh, you know what I mean.’ She brushed a strand of hair from her damp face wearily. ‘You can’t have forgotten so completely. I could see you remembered at the hotel.’

‘The name of your father’s firm, that is all.’ She was aware as they talked, in a tiny separate little compartment in her mind, that her body was still registering the feel and smell of him as he had held her in his arms. The knowledge was painful and treacherous and altogether unwelcome, but it was there. She had never met anyone like him before. She didn’t like the way he made her feel, but she couldn’t do anything about it either. Every little cell in her body seemed determined to hold on to the tingling electricity his hard male shape had induced. ‘Look, start at the beginning; humour me.’

As he walked across the room to his chair her senses registered a carefulness in his walk, almost a hesitancy, that was incongruous in such a giant of a man, but as he sat down she brushed the fancy aside irritably. He was getting under her skin for some reason and she could do without it.

‘Well, there’s not much to tell really.’ She sniffed dismally and looked across at him slowly. ‘Have you got a handkerchief?’

‘Yes, I’ve got a handkerchief.’ He answered her in the same dull tone in which she had spoken and a burst of adrenalin put scarlet in her cheeks as he reached across with a large square of white cotton. Had she sounded like that? She’d have to watch herself—it wouldn’t do for him to think he had the upper hand. And how dared he mock her?

‘My father founded the firm with my mother the year I was born,’ she said quietly, after she had blown her nose and settled back in her seat. ‘They did quite well too—we had a nice house and the usual little luxuries. Not like this, of course—’ her eyes bit at him with heavy sarcasm ‘—but we were happy.’

‘Yes?’ he prompted her as she paused, her eyes cloudy with memories.

‘Then my mother got ill, a heart complaint, when I was in my early teens. Dad spent more and more time with her. I don’t think she knew he mortgaged the house to keep the firm going—I certainly didn’t. She died just as I started university.’

‘I’m sorry.’ The piercing blue eyes never left her face for a moment, the deep voice quite devoid of expression.

‘Dad was devastated, naturally, but then he threw himself into the firm, trying to claw back the time he had lost, I guess, and he was doing quite well. We had a loyal workforce and he could spend as many hours as he wanted there now with Mum gone, which helped him actually, took his mind off things. He’d just secured a big contract which he was thrilled about; it would have made the house safe again and he wanted that for me, but then——’ She stopped abruptly and raised her eyes full on his face. ‘Then Steel Enterprises stepped in.’

‘How?’ he asked grimly.

‘Don’t you remember?’ She stared at him angrily. ‘It was only just over two years ago; you can’t have forgotten the details so quickly.’

‘Do you have any idea just how vast my corporation is?’ he asked tightly. ‘And I have other business interests abroad that take a lot of my time and attention. I can’t personally get involved in everything.’

‘No, I suppose not.’ The thought hadn’t occurred to her and her eyes opened wide for an instant. ‘Well, you—your firm,’ she corrected hastily, ‘had bought the rest of the block our small factory and office was in and you wanted our space. There was nowhere else we could go immediately—your offer was abysmally low. It was common knowledge that Dad’s firm was having problems, and when Dad refused to sell you put the squeeze on.’

‘I see.’ His face was blank, almost uninterested.

‘Banks suddenly foreclosed, contracts died, the whole caboodle folded in on itself.’ She glared at him angrily. ‘It’s a lovely way to do business, isn’t it, Mr Steel, but I suppose all is fair in love and war? That’s obviously the principle you promote. Even if you yourself weren’t personally overseeing this particular deal, you can’t tell me your employees would go against the rules, your normal operating procedures.’

‘I wasn’t aware I had to tell you anything,’ he said coldly and she flinched at the icy tone. He was talking to her, listening, but part of his mind seemed to be ticking on elsewhere. She stared at him hard. What was he thinking about? ‘Do continue.’ He leant forward slightly, the movement causing her heart to jump into her mouth as the shirt stretched tight for a moment over his broad chest. Stop it, she chided herself angrily, you’re as jumpy as a kitten.

‘And goodbye firm.’ She forced herself to speak calmly. ‘Goodbye house. Dad got a part-time job for a pittance and lodged with friends, and within four months he was dead. The doctor said it was pneumonia aggravated by a dose of flu, but he just gave up the will to live, that’s what killed him.’ She stared at him painfully. ‘He wanted to die; he told me so.’

‘And you blame me for that?’

‘Totally.’ She rose as she spoke. ‘My dad used to have a saying—the buck stops here. Do you know it?’ She smiled grimly. ‘Well, the buck stopped fair and square at your door, Mr Steel, even if you aren’t man enough to pick it up. Your company policies stink, your employees stink—and you stink.’

‘Graphically put,’ he said sardonically.

‘And that’s it?’ Two bright spots of colour burnt in her cheeks as she faced him, her thick black hair shining red under the bright artificial lights, her dark brown eyes enormous. ‘A touch of sarcasm while holding on to your precious dignity? No apology, no regret, no guilt?’

‘I have nothing to feel guilty about.’ He too had risen, to walk across to a long bell-cord in the corner of the room which he pulled twice. Almost immediately the door opened to reveal a pretty, petite maid complete with starched apron and mob-cap. ‘Could you ask Mrs Langton to step in here a moment, please, June?’ he asked smoothly. ‘I’d like a word with her.’

‘Yes, sir.’ The maid’s big blue eyes opened wide at the sight of Janie. ‘I’m sorry, sir, we didn’t know you were home. We thought you were out for the evening——’

‘My plans changed.’ The words were dismissive and the small girl immediately left the room with a quick, nervous nod of her head. ‘I’m going to order us dinner.’ As the blue eyes fastened on Janie she stared at him in horror.

‘Not for me, Mr Steel,’ she said quickly. ‘I’ve had my say; I want to go home.’

‘No way.’ His voice was curt. ‘I haven’t finished with you yet, not by a long chalk, besides which I need to check your story.’

‘Not now?’ She glanced at the small gold wrist-watch on her arm. ‘It’s way past six on a Friday night. There won’t be anyone about.’

‘There will be people about if I need them to be,’ he said coldly, ‘and the bare facts will be down on record. The more detailed fill-in will have to wait until I can find out who was in charge of that particular deal.’

‘Look, I’m going.’ She took one step towards the door, but the rigid immobility of the big body in front of her froze her next step. ‘I mean it, I want to go home.’

‘Don’t be so childish.’ The shock of his words brought the angry colour that had just died surging back into her cheeks. ‘I’m just offering you dinner while certain enquiries are made, that’s all. You are most fortunate you aren’t being charged at the local police station on various counts.’

‘But your evening?’ A mental picture of the tall, slim blonde flashed into her mind. ‘You obviously intended to be out tonight and——’

‘It’s a little late to start concerning yourself about my situation, don’t you think?’ he asked smoothly. ‘You can have another sherry while I make a few calls and then we will eat.’

As she opened her mouth to argue the door opened. ‘Mrs Langton.’ Kane Steel smiled at the stout middle-aged woman who stepped into the room, her iron-grey hair tightly drawn back in a severe bun and her stiff black dress looking as though it would retain its shape with or without a body inside it. ‘My plans have changed and I now require dinner for two. Is that possible?’

‘Of course, Mr Steel.’ Mrs Langton smiled formally. ‘In half an hour?’

‘Fine.’ As the woman left with a smile and a nod in Janie’s direction, Janie glared at him angrily.

‘What do I have to do to convince you that I don’t want dinner?’

‘Nothing, I know it already,’ he said imperturbably.

‘Then why?’

‘Because you’ll do as you’re told.’ The statement was clearly a complete answer as far as he was concerned and she stared at him furiously, incensed by his arrogance.

‘You really are the most incredible man,’ she said in tones of deep disgust, her fury escalating as he smiled mockingly, his dark face alive with cruel humour. He was still angry, very angry.

‘You are not the first female to say that,’ he said tauntingly, ‘although I have to admit the circumstances are a first. Normally it is said with more…enthusiasm.’

‘Is it indeed?’ She tried to inject as much scorn and derision into her voice as she could. ‘I was always under the impression that a real man didn’t have to boast about his performance in bed.’

‘Was I talking about bed?’ he asked softly, with satirical coolness, but she noticed her insult had narrowed the ice-blue eyes and straightened his mouth. ‘You know, this business about your father apart, you really are a little shrew, aren’t you? Don’t you like men, Miss Janie Gordon?’

He had remembered her Christian name from the hotel. As she glared back into the rugged face the thought hammered in her brain. In spite of all the chaos and aggravation, he had remembered, and she suddenly knew it was indicative of the man himself. His mind was razor-sharp and as hard as nails; he wouldn’t forget a thing, ever. So why the memory-loss regarding her father’s firm? Did she believe him? Had he been involved with it all? He didn’t seem the type of man to let anything slip through his fingers, least of all the knowledge of the acquisition of a prime block of real estate. He would have known an outline of the situation at least, especially in view of the difficulties involved. He would have had to, surely? And he had recognised the name of the firm.

‘Well?’ As she came back to the present he was still holding her with that rapier-sharp blue gaze.

‘What?’ She had lost the thread of the conversation completely.

‘Men, do you like men?’ He took a step towards her as she tried to concentrate on what he was saying and not her churning thoughts. ‘There’s one way to find out…’ The manner in which he folded her into his arms spoke of an expertise that only registered on Janie much later; at that precise moment she was too busy struggling against his superior strength. She found, to her fury, that she was quite helpless in his embrace. The big body was all muscled power and firm, hard flesh, and she was caught as securely as a tiny fish in a net. This was part of the penance?

As his mouth closed on hers she forced herself to stand still. Her movements were only bringing her more intimately into contact with that hard male frame, besides which resistance was useless and they both knew it. The kiss was firm and warm and sensual and she hated the excited trembling it triggered in all different parts of her body—it was a betrayal to her father and to herself. But she couldn’t help it. The thought weakened her still further. What was it about him? She had never had a kiss affect her like this before.

He moved her closer into him as he allowed one hand to play up and down her back in a soothing, hypnotic rhythm that set fire alarms off all over her body. She should have felt frightened, threatened-she was at his mercy here when all was said and done—but her whole being was coping with the ripples of pleasure that were flowing through her body as he explored the contours of her mouth, his lips gentle and erotic in turn. His mouth was a sweet torture and tormentingly knowing as it wandered over her closed eyelids, her throat, her ears, creating havoc to her nervous system and a warm ache in her lower stomach as it did its devastatingly sensual work.

Then she was free and he brushed his lips lightly over hers once more before stepping back to survey her with narrowed eyes and crossed arms. ‘Very nice.’ His voice was soft and deep but for the life of her she couldn’t say a word as she gazed silently back into the harsh, strong face. ‘Very nice indeed, and now you are going to have another drink and I am going to make some phone calls.’

She was still standing in stunned silence when he left the room seconds later after filling her glass and placing it back on the table near her chair. The swine! Her legs were beginning to shake and she almost collapsed into her seat, her mind whirling, as the click of the door released her from the dazed trance. She didn’t doubt for a minute that the kiss had been intended as a punishment. She groaned out loud into the empty room. She should have shouted at him when he released her, told him exactly what she thought of him, slapped his face——But she’d already done that once tonight. She shut her eyes tightly for a second. This was all a dream—it had to be; nothing else would explain the dizzy stupor his lips had evoked.

She took a big gulp of sherry as she glanced round the magnificent room again, noticing, as she did so, a photograph of two men to one side of the mantelpiece. She rose to take a closer look. It had to be Kane Steel and a brother or cousin—the likeness was uncanny, although the smaller man was of a lighter build and his hair was fairer. Nevertheless the two faces boasted an unmistakable blood tie. It must have been taken years ago, she thought idly as she looked at the much younger Kane smiling back at her. The deep lines that were grooved into his face now and the touches of grey in his hair were missing, along with the rather tense way in which he held himself.

He did look older, she thought suddenly; that was why for a moment she hadn’t been sure if it was him at the hotel. The photograph that had been in her father’s papers had been of a much younger man, too, although admittedly it had been the usual polished pose of a publicity shot and, consequently, remote and unlifelike. She would have to go through those papers again. After the initial tearful sorting she had bundled everything into a big box and stuffed it into a cupboard, and ever since it had been too painful to resurrect.

When he returned, ten minutes later, she was quite composed and poised, at least on the outside. Inside was a seething mass of emotion like a volcano before the lid was blown.

‘Prawn cocktail and steak and salad all right?’ he asked blandly as he entered the room. ‘With fresh peaches in brandy for dessert?’ He eyed her narrowly, his face grim.

‘Fine.’ She nodded jerkily. Get through the next couple of hours the best you can and then you’re free, she told herself silently, and you needn’t ever see him again. Unless it was in court, of course. No doubt the vicious take-over, the ruthless but legal destruction of all that her father had built up for years, would be explained away calmly and logically, with Steel Enterprises coming up smelling of roses. She didn’t know why he was going through this farce, but that was undoubtedly what it was. Corporate giants were totally ruthless and never admitted to being in the wrong. Rule number one. And it had been legal, she reminded herself again. Cruel, wicked, heinous but…legal.

As he seated himself in his chair after pouring another whisky she gestured to the photograph un-smilingly. ‘Your brother?’

‘Yes.’ He followed her gaze. ‘That’s Keith.’

‘He’s younger than you?’ she asked carefully.

‘By four years.’ He took a long draught from his glass and settled back in his chair. ‘That was taken three years ago when we were on holiday in Greece.’

‘Three years?’ She stared at him in surprise. Three years; she would have said at least ten. He read her face accurately.

‘I’m thirty-four years old, Miss Gordon,’ he said tightly, ‘and my brother died last year. Can we leave the subject now?’

‘Of course.’ She nodded quickly as her cheeks burnt hotly. How was she supposed to know his brother was dead? And she would have put Kane Steel at least eight or nine years older, although the lean, hard body was ageless. It was that devastatingly attractive face that had fooled her. What had happened to put those lines round his mouth and eyes? It must have been something catastrophic to have made such a difference in three years? His brother’s death maybe? Or was there something else?

The dinner was excellent, but the huge ornate room in which it was served was daunting, to say the least. When Kane first led her into it she took a deep breath and prayed for aplomb; the massive dark wood dining-table, thick white carpet and cream-textured walls, combined with the heavy velvet drapes in a dark rich burgundy, were grandly intimidating, and it was colossal.

‘Do you always eat in here?’ she asked him quietly as June cleared the dinner-plates from the table preparatory to dessert. The whole meal had been conducted in tight, painful silence.

‘When I have guests.’ He looked at her closely. ‘Don’t you like this room?’

‘Where do you eat when you don’t have guests?’ she prevaricated quickly.

‘In my study,’ he said shortly. ‘In fact I spend most of my time in this house in there. Do you want to eat dessert in the study?’ he asked suddenly.

‘Yes, please,’ she said instantly.

He blinked and looked round the dining-room bewilderedly. ‘What’s wrong with it?’

‘Nothing, it’s beautiful,’ she said quickly, ‘but it’s just so big! Well, let’s face it, it’s gigantic.’

‘Is it?’ He glanced round the room again. ‘Yes, I suppose it is really. I never think about it.’

How the other half live, she thought wryly as she followed him across the vast hall into a much smaller room than the others, but one which could still have swallowed her tiny flat whole. It was cosy, though. A crackling fire was burning in the hearth, one wall was lined with books that shone dully in the subdued glow from the copper wall-lights and thick, heavy gold drapes at the window had been pulled against the cold night, giving a homely feel to the room that was accentuated by the large tabby cat curled up on the leather settee by the fire.

‘You own a cat?’ She hadn’t put him down as an animal lover.

‘Cats. This one’s Juniper—there’s another one, Cosmos, around somewhere,’ he said vaguely. As Mrs Langton and June set the small table that was tucked away in one corner of the room, Janie stroked the soft fur of the large tabby and watched Kane Steel from under her eyelashes. In spite of all her efforts to the contrary, she couldn’t help remembering how it had felt to be held close to that magnificent chest. He really did have a superb body. The thought made her blush as hotly as if she had voiced it and she lowered her eyes quickly. The sooner she was out of here the better, and she had better remember that the kiss had been a male punishment, an offering to his damaged ego after the scene at the Press conference. Typical of the sort of man he was, she thought tightly. It must have hit him hard to have his dirty washing laundered in public.

The peaches in brandy, heavily doused with thick double cream, were delicious, but the sense of un-reality that had been steadily growing all night intensified as they finished the dessert. ‘Coffee?’ He looked very big and very dark in the smaller room, the piercing blueness of his eyes at odds with the tanned skin, and again the enigmatic appeal of the man reached out to her, strong and fierce, until she found her heart was pounding out of control.

‘No.’ She stood up abruptly and walked over to the log fire. ‘No, thank you, I really must go.’

‘Why?’ His voice was caustic. ‘I thought we were having a wonderful time.’ The sarcasm was bitingly cold.

‘I don’t see what you’re so het up about,’ she said furiously as her temper reached boiling-point. ‘Now Joe Flanders knows what I’ve done, I’ve probably lost my job and my flat, not to mention my credibility. You’re sitting pretty with virtue intact, aren’t you? I’m the one who will be made the scapegoat.’

‘Made the scapegoat?’ he repeated incredulously as his eyes raked over her hot face. ‘I don’t believe I’m hearing this! Do you have any idea of what you did tonight, young woman? In the middle of a Press conference, a Press conference,’ he repeated furiously, ‘you accused me of being a murderer and a swindler and goodness knows what else. There isn’t a journalist in London who will miss a scoop like that and I wouldn’t wonder a couple of them got a nice juicy picture of your hand connecting with my face as the icing on the cake. Anything you get from Joe Flanders you deserve. To have planned something like that——’

‘I didn’t plan it,’ she said indignantly, her brown eyes flashing black sparks. ‘I was with Joe in the coffee-lounge—we had an appointment with the manager about some advertising work—when I saw you come in. It was an impulse thing.’

He swore, softly and fluently, as he shut his eyes for a splitsecond. ‘I don’t know if that makes it worse or better. Didn’t you stop for a moment to think about the repercussions that were bound to follow?’

‘No.’ She stared straight into the blue eyes. ‘But if I had I’d still have done exactly the same.’

‘Would you indeed?’ His face was black with rage. ‘You really want a good whipping to bring you to heel, young lady.’

‘You touch me again, in any way, and I’ll be the one bringing an assault charge,’ she said angrily. ‘Got it?’

He shook his head slowly. ‘You’re eaten up with this.’

‘What do you expect?’ she said fiercely as her hands clenched into fists at her side. ‘He was my father, not some vague acquaintance. How would you feel if someone treated your father like that?’

‘Like murder,’ he said without a trace of amusement in his face, ‘but it’s all supposition at the moment, isn’t it? I haven’t had anything confirmed and it seems to me that you’ve put your own interpretation on events, in any case. You don’t know for sure exactly what happened on the business side and, I repeat, your behaviour is inexcusable.’

‘I know enough.’ She faced him stiffly. ‘More than enough, and I want to go now.’

‘OK, OK.’ He stood up slowly, almost carefully, and again she got the impression that the movement was deliberate, thought out in advance. ‘I’m expecting a call in half an hour; you don’t want to hang around for the outcome?’

‘No, I don’t,’ she said coldly. ‘I know my facts are accurate, Mr Steel, and I also know what your supposed enquiries will reveal.’

‘Then you’re way in front of me.’ He stared at her, his face tight and mordant. ‘To be honest, I’ve had more than my fill of your particular brand of charm for one evening.’

‘Why break the habit of a lifetime by being honest now?’ she asked bitingly, her eyes flashing sparks.

‘I think I probably asked for that.’ The harsh grooves in his face deepened as he turned abruptly away. ‘You don’t miss an opportunity, do you? I’ll have to remember that for the future.’

‘Future?’ she asked with icy contempt. ‘I doubt if our paths will ever cross again. Your lifestyle and mine are hardly on a par, are they?’

‘Oh, you don’t get off as lightly as that,’ he said coldly, his eyes lethal. ‘You’re wrong, Miss Gordon, and I’ll prove it to you, and when it’s confirmed that you’ve made a grave error——’

‘It won’t be,’ she said firmly. ‘I told you what happened in the past and I’m still far from sure you aren’t fully aware of it all anyway. I don’t need to have what I’ve told you confirmed or otherwise. I know what happened. I’d like to go now.’

‘As you wish.’ He pressed a tiny gold button at the side of the fireplace and within seconds the little maid had popped her head round the door.

Didn’t he ever do anything himself? Janie thought cynically as she watched him giving orders to the small girl. Buttons for this, orders here and there, everyone jumping to attention. Her face was cryptic as he glanced back to her and the piercing gaze had swept over her features before she could school them into a more acceptable mask.

‘So much hate in one small package.’ His voice was deep and soft and, for some reason, tiny flickers of fire shivered down her spine as he walked over to her, lifting a lock of silky black hair and rubbing it in his fingers as he looked hard into her dark brown eyes. ‘It’s very bad for you, you know,’ he said mockingly, his eyes glittering coldly.

‘So you said before.’ She flicked her head away sharply. ‘Did I understand that you’ve asked for the car to take me home? I’m quite capable of phoning for a taxi.’

‘I think you’re quite capable of anything.’ There was a note in his voice she couldn’t quite place, but it made the goose-bumps rise all over her body. ‘However, I would prefer to take you home myself, having brought you here in the first place.’

‘You’re coming too?’ Her voice was frankly dismayed and a glimmer of a smile touched the frosty face for a fleeting moment.

‘I was only saying the other day to a colleague that it would be a pleasant change to meet a girl whose head wasn’t turned by the Steel name,’ he said sardonically as he moved back to his place in front of the fire. ‘I forgot that little law that says we should be careful what we ask for in case we get it.’

She eyed him without speaking—there was nothing she could say after all—and within sixty seconds June had returned to announce that the car was waiting at the main entrance.

As they left the beautifully warm house and stepped into the cold night, the wind blew against Janie’s face with tiny chips of sleet in its arctic depths and, once in the car, she drew her coat off the seat where it was lying with her handbag and pulled it round herself gratefully.

‘Cold?’ He had seated himself opposite her, like before, the blue eyes watchful.

‘A little.’ She glanced out of the dark window quickly and searched for something impersonal to say. ‘Where are we?’

‘Middlesex,’ he said coldly. ‘The Mother of London, near enough to make travelling easy and yet still retaining country lanes with working farms and thatched cottages that would grace any village in Yorkshire.’

‘You’re a country boy at heart?’ she asked cynically as she pulled the coat still closer round her shape.

‘You find that hard to believe?’ he said expressionlessly. ‘You have me set in the North Circular Road with its attendant miles of buildings and Tube stations and so on? Or maybe in the heart of London, the West End or Chelsea?’

‘I would say the latter would suit you better.’ She made no attempt to soften her words. ‘I should think the only interest you would display in villages and suchlike is in their market value.’

‘That is what you would say, is it?’ The blue eyes were diamond-hard. ‘It is a pity that such attractiveness goes hand in hand with such ignorance.’

‘How dare you?’ She reared up like a small black kitten when confronted by a sleek, full-grown panther.

‘How dare I?’ His voice was deceptively mild in comparison to the steel-hard set of his jaw. ‘Your terminology is all wrong, Miss Gordon. It is I who should be asking you that. You know nothing about me, nothing at all, beyond the rather vague notion that I was responsible for causing your father some grief——’

‘Vague?’ Her voice was so shrill, he winced slightly before continuing as though she hadn’t spoken.

‘And you continue to be obnoxious at every turn, refusing to listen to common sense and altogether behaving in a manner more suited to an infant than a grown woman of…?’ She held his glance, her mouth obstinately shut. ‘Twenty-three, twenty-four?’ he persisted with inflexible tenacity.

‘Twenty-four, not that it’s any of your business,’ she returned sharply, ‘and what about your behaviour anyway?’

‘My behaviour?’ He lifted dark eyebrows with such haughtiness that Janie could have hit him—again. ‘As far as I recall, I merely gave you a lift in my car when you were coatless and hatless, so to speak, and provided you with an adequate meal. That constitutes a felony in your book?’

‘I don’t mean that,’ she said angrily, her rage flooding her system with such warmth that the coat was quite unnecessary. ‘I mean when you——’ She stopped abruptly. ‘When you manhandled me,’ she finished tightly.

‘I manhandled you?’ The amazed outrage was genuine. ‘My head is still ringing from the contact with your hand, young lady; when the hell did I manhandle you?’

‘In your drawing-room,’ she said flatly, ‘when you kissed me.’

‘Ah…’ The word was full of meaning and her head snapped up to find the dark face was surveying her with mocking intentness. ‘Now you are going to try and tell me you didn’t enjoy it?’

‘No, I didn’t!’ She glared at him, almost inco-herent with temper. ‘It was sickening, absolutely sickening. I’ve never been treated like that in my life.’

‘Really?’ He settled further back in his seat, crossing his arms across his chest as the piercing eyes narrowed into blue slits of light and she realised, quite suddenly, that he was playing with her, like a sleek black cat with a tiny mouse. ‘The male population in general is sensible enough to have nothing to do with you? There’s hope for the universe yet.’

‘I don’t mean I’ve never been kissed,’ she said furiously, ‘and you know it. I mean——’ She broke off. What did she mean? ‘To be forced——’

‘Oh, come, come.’ He actually had the nerve to smile. ‘Maybe for the first moment or two, but after that?’ The hard male face was maddeningly cool. ‘I was there, remember.’

‘You’re a pig,’ she said weakly, ‘and I’m not discussing this with you. In fact I’m not discussing anything with you.’ She shut her eyes determinedly, drawing the coat more tightly round her shoulders.

‘I’m glad I was there,’ the deep voice said reflectively after a long minute had passed in silence. ‘I, at least, found the experience most…rewarding.’ She didn’t open her eyes and several miles flashed by before he spoke again. ‘I’d appreciate some indication of where we are going?’

‘Oh, you can drop me anywhere.’ She opened her eyes quickly and glanced out of the car window into the steady downpour that had materialised outside. Cocooned in the luxurious interior of the Bentley, the world outside seemed a million miles away.

‘Well, you are consistent, I’ll give you that,’ he said coldly. ‘That comment matches the rest of the rubbish you’ve spoken all night. Have you noticed it’s throwing everything down out there and you are in a thin wool dress and coat that wouldn’t last a minute? Now, an address, please.’

‘Aberdeen Gardens,’ she said after a long pause.

‘And the number?’

‘Sixty-two.’ Aberdeen Gardens was two streets away from where her flat was situated, but she didn’t want him to know where she lived. She hadn’t worked out why yet, she just knew with deep conviction that the less he knew about her the better. He was a threat, a definite threat to her peace of mind, and not just because of past history. She was used to dealing with all sorts of men in her job as Joe Flanders’ personal secretary and could keep the most obstreperous individuals at bay with a few well-chosen, crushing remarks or careful diplomacy, but this man…She glanced at him again in the dim light from the passing street-lamps, contemplating the hard square jaw and lethal body. This man was a whole new ball game.

After he had given Baines the address, he slid the glass partition back firmly into place, shutting them once again in their own disturbingly intimate atmosphere. ‘Do you live alone?’ The question threw her for a brief moment and she hoped he hadn’t noticed.

‘Yes.’ The one word was abrasive and curt.

‘One-bedroomed flat?’ He was pertinacious, she had to give him that.