All Male. Kay Thorpe

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СКАЧАТЬ as he closed the door and lifted a hand in taunting farewell. Well, he could think again! Nothing he could say or do would change her opinion of him. It was set in stone.

      Where her finer feelings were concerned, maybe, came the sneaking thought, but there was no denying her physical responses. Sexual attraction, Lee had called it: a chemical reaction that had nothing to do with liking or disliking. A governable one, though, she told herself tightly. When it came to mind over matter there was no contest. Not in this instance.

      Phoning on the Saturday to announce her return from a two-week shoot in the Caribbean, Sarah sounded more up-beat than she had done in ages. Posing semi-nude for magazine and calendar work hadn’t been her original aim, but the financial enticement had overcome any scruples she’d had. She had, she claimed, enjoyed the whole experience.

      Kerry contemplated leaving Lee Hartford’s name out of it altogether when detailing her own new job over lunch the following day, but the chance, no matter how remote, that Sarah might hear of the relationship persuaded her to come clean.

      ‘He’s everything you said,’ she confirmed. ‘Thinks he only has to beckon to have every woman falling over herself to please him! It would do him a power of good to have the tables turned on him!’

      The vivacious face opposite hardened. ‘It would need someone capable of playing him at his own game.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘If you feel the way you say you do about him why not do it yourself?’

      ‘Even if I were up to that kind of thing at all, I think I’ve made my opinion a bit too obvious to start now,’ Kerry returned drily, aware all the same of a fleeting temptation.

      ‘You could always make out you were trying to cover up how he really affected you. He’d believe it,’ Sarah was obviously taken with the idea, her eyes bright with malice. ‘You could do it. You could even enjoy doing it! Just imagine the satisfaction you’d gain from giving the great Lee Hartford the run-around!’

      Kerry could imagine. What she lacked was the guts to take him on. Fear of falling for him? suggested that sneaky little voice.

      ‘Not really my style,’ she said flatly.

      ‘It could be.’ Having come up with the notion, Sarah wasn’t about to let it go that easily. ‘You’d be avenging all those he’s made fools of, not just me.’

      ‘You think he leads all his women to believe he’s going to marry them?’ Kerry questioned.

      ‘Maybe not all, but he definitely led me to think that was where we were heading. Then suddenly it was over. He just lost interest.’ Sarah waited a moment, wry resignation overtaking the animation in her eyes when Kerry remained silent. ‘I suppose you’re right. It wasn’t a good idea. Anyway, forget it.’

      It would be a long time before Sarah was able to forget, Kerry guessed, sensing the depth of hurt still there in her friend. Had there been any softening at all in her own feelings toward Lee Hartford they would have hardened again. He was a total degenerate!

      

      

      Monday morning was dry and sunny, the air crisp and clear. If only the winter weather could always be like this, Kerry yearned, walking from the station to the house with a spring in her step. The only drawback being, she supposed, that one would want to be outside in it rather than confined indoors.

      In celebration of the sunnier outlook she had put on a skirt and matching waistcoat in a tan and cream checked wool, along with a cream cashmere sweater, the whole ensemble covered by a toning throw-over wrap. The outfit had drawn several approving glances on the way here, and drew yet another when Estelle saw her.

      ‘You could stalk a catwalk along with the best!’ she declared. ‘I still think you’re wasted doing what you do, good though you are at it.’

      ‘I like what I do,’ Kerry assured her. ‘Although I’ll certainly be sorry when this job is over.’

      Estelle shook her head. ‘That won’t be for quite a time. I dare say there’ll be a whole lot of revision to do before I can even think about submitting a manuscript.’

      True enough, Kerry reflected, feeling anything but daunted by the prospect. If the bio failed to make the impact she predicted it wasn’t going to be through lack of effort on her part.

      That confidence faded just a little over the course of the morning when Estelle showed signs of having hit a mental block.

      ‘I suppose I’m not really in the mood,’ she confessed in the end. ‘My mind keeps running off at a tangent. Supposing you type up what I’ve managed to come up with this far and see how it looks?’

      Kerry did her best to hide her reservations. Running out of steam this early tended to suggest a basic loss of interest. It was possible that the whole autobiography idea had been no more than a passing whim on Estelle’s part—a means of relieving the tedium. Her son was perhaps right in considering a return to the stage the best option.

      She had almost completed transcribing her shorthand on screen when the telephone rang. She ignored it at first, trusting that Estelle would pick up the call, but it just went on ringing until she finally felt bound to lift the receiver herself.

      ‘Sorry to interrupt the flow,’ said Lee, before she could speak, ‘but I’ve an urgent request to make. Can you spare Kerry to bring me the blue file I left on the desk? I need it urgently or I’d send someone out for it. A taxi should get her here within half an hour.’

      ‘This is Kerry,’ she said coolly. ‘No one else appeared to be answering the phone so I took the call myself.’

      There was a brief pause before he answered in an altered tone, ‘Where are you?’

      ‘In the study,’ she confirmed, and heard him say something short and sharp under his breath.

      ‘That’s a separate line. My secretary got the wrong number. No matter. You’re obviously not taking dictation right now so I’m sure Mother won’t mind you bringing me the file. You’ll find the taxi number on my desk pad. There shouldn’t be any difficulty at this hour.’

      Kerry bit back the rebuttal trembling on her lips. Estelle was paying her for her time. If there were any rebuttals to be made at all she was the one to do it.

      ‘Certainly, Mr Hartford,’ she said tonelessly instead.

      She cut contact before he could make any reply. Not, she supposed, that he needed to say anything else. No byplay this morning, she noted. In all probability he had decided the game wasn’t worth the candle where she was concerned Well, that suited her fine!

      As anticipated, Estelle was more than prepared to let her go, although she did ask if she minded. Kerry phoned for a cab, and spent the five minutes until it arrived touching up her make-up and running a comb through her hair. If she had to do this at all, she told herself, she was not going to arrive looking as if she’d dropped everything to fly to his bidding!

      The pre-luncheon traffic proved light enough to allow arrival at the imposing tower block within the half-hour. Kerry could have found her way up to the appropriate floor but was bound as a visitor to report first to Reception. The man on duty had her name already on his list and sent her right up.

      There were several other people waiting СКАЧАТЬ