Loren's Baby. Anne Mather

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      ‘Three months!’

      Close to her like this, his eyes had a curious magnetic quality, the pupils dilated so that the tawny irises were almost extinguished. His lashes were thick and straight, gold-tipped she saw, like the sun-bleached texture of his hair. Impatience and confusion twisted the firm contours of his mouth, depriving it of its normally sensual curve. She wondered fleetingly if the child would be like him, and then squashed the thought as being unworthy of speculation.

      The silence between them was beginning to get to her, and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze, suddenly aware of the pulse jerking at his jawline, the strong column of his throat rising above the opened neck of his shirt. In the warm room, redolent with the salty tang of the estuary, a hangover from opened windows on the sun-filled afternoon, she could still smell the faint heat of his body mingling with less personal scents of soap and after-shave. It made her aware of her own vulnerability, and she realised what a temptation he must have been to an impressionable girl like Loren.

      ‘Three months,’ he said again at last. Sarcasm curled his lips. ‘Why wait so long?’

      ‘Before coming here, you mean?’ she asked jerkily.

      ‘That’s exactly what I do mean.’ His fingers inserted themselves into the minute pockets of his waistcoat. ‘Or was I last on the list?’

      ‘You—’

      Her instinctive response was to hit him once more, but he backed off mockingly, raising one hand to defend himself. ‘Oh, no,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘Not again. We played that little scene ten minutes ago. Melodrama was never my strong point.’

      ‘What is your strong point, Mr Ross?’ she demanded hotly. ‘Seducing teenagers?’

      The bones of his cheeks were clearly visible as his breath was sucked in. Then, in cold denigrating tones, he said: ‘Are you aware of the laws governing slander? If you would care to repeat those words in the presence of the other members of this household, I think I can promise you you’ll find out.’

      Caryn’s lips trembled, but she had to go on. ‘Do you deny seducing my sister, Mr Ross?’

      He heaved a sigh. ‘Would you believe me if I did?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Then that’s rather a pointless question, don’t you think?’

      Caryn sniffed. ‘I might have known what kind of man you’d turn out to be.’

      ‘So why did you come here?’

      ‘Because that child is yours, and he’s your responsibility!’

      ‘Ah, I see.’ He gave a harsh laugh. ‘It’s money you want.’

      ‘No!’ Caryn was horrified. ‘You—you don’t think I’ve come here to—to blackmail you, do you?’

      ‘You used that word, not me.’

      ‘But you—implied it.’ She made a grimace of distaste. ‘Oh, you’re twisting all my words. You’re making it so—so sordid!’

      ‘And isn’t it?’ he snapped. ‘Coming here, telling me some crazy story about your sister dying and insinuating that it was my fault—’

      ‘It was!’

      ‘Oh, no.’ He shook his head. ‘If your sister’s dead, it has nothing to do with me.’

      Caryn forced herself to meet his eyes. ‘How can you say that? You must have known there was a risk—’

      ‘What risk?’ he grated. ‘For God’s sake, I didn’t know she was pregnant!’

      Caryn tried to be calm. ‘You must have known she might be,’ she insisted. ‘You left her to tell her family—’

      ‘Her family!’ He raised his eyes heavenward for a moment as if seeking patience. ‘I didn’t even know she had a family, until you came here purporting to be her sister.’

      ‘I am her sister.’

      ‘Very well. And I was her employer. Her employer! Do you understand? I seldom discuss personal matters with employees unless they impinge in some way upon the working capacity of the employee concerned. Is that clear enough for you?’

      Caryn tried again: ‘But your relationship with Loren was more than that of employer-employee.’

      ‘Was it?’

      ‘Well, wasn’t it?’

      ‘Did she tell you that it was?’

      ‘I didn’t need to be told,’ Caryn declared tremulously. ‘She was made about you.’

      ‘Really?’ He was unmoved. ‘And I was mad about her, too I suppose.’

      ‘For a while …’

      ‘For a while!’ He brought his balled fist hard into the palm of his hand. ‘My God, I can’t believe anyone could be that—that—’

      ‘Gullible?’ she supplied coldly, but he snapped: ‘No! Stupid!’

      ‘Loren was not stupid,’ she protested, and his lips sneered:

      ‘Did I say Loren?’ he taunted, and her fists clenched.

      ‘You think you’re so clever, don’t you, Mr Ross?’

      ‘No.’ He shook his head irritably. ‘Not clever at all. I was stupid. I knew what she was the minute I saw her. I should never have taken her on.’

      Caryn couldn’t permit this. ‘Loren was a good secretary—’

      ‘There are thousands of good secretaries.’

      ‘She was loyal. She worked hard.’

      ‘She made life impossible!’ he muttered.

      ‘You admit then that your relationship with her wasn’t as platonic as you would have me think—’

      ‘I admit nothing,’ he declared, turning his back on her and walking back to his desk. ‘Nothing!’

      Caryn drew in a long breath and expelled it unsteadily. ‘So you deny that the child is yours?’

      There was silence for a moment and then he turned and rested back against the side of his desk, one hand on either side of him supporting his body. ‘Tell me about the child,’ he said. ‘Tell me how she died.’

      Caryn sought for words. ‘I—she—when you fired her—’ She waited for him to deny this, but when he didn’t, she went on: ‘When you fired her, she came back to London. To—to the flat.’

      ‘Your parents’ flat?’ he inquired.

      ‘No. Mine.’ Caryn hesitated, then she went on: ‘Our parents are СКАЧАТЬ