A Very Private Revenge. HELEN BROOKS

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СКАЧАТЬ found it difficult to be alone with a man for a long time after that, but friends like Fiona and Richard had been great, and eventually she had gone on a couple of dates—more to prove to herself she could than anything else. But they had been purely platonic, with nothing more than a brief goodnight kiss.

      She’d often felt her heart had gone into cold storage on the man front, and it was that, even more than the rape itself, that she couldn’t forgive Mike Goodfellow for. He had taken away so much warmth, fun, excitement and just plain ordinary living from her in a few short, but terrifyingly brutal minutes. Even now she would freeze, or experience the odd moment of blind panic, if a man looked at her in a certain way, or touched her when she wasn’t aware of them.

      He had received a prison sentence, and she understood his wife had left him in the process, but how could he pay for what he had done to her and others? He couldn’t, not really...

      It’s in the past, it’s in the past. You’re not letting him win. It was what she had told herself every day for the last five years, but it helped, and she had determined she would carry on telling herself the same thing until it no longer became necessary.

      She took a deep breath now, finishing the last of the hot dog and throwing the paper away in the convenient red bin that was positioned just outside the entrance to the terraced house in which her flat was situated, before opening the communal front door with her key.

      Once inside, she ran up the two flights of stairs to her little idyll at the top of the house, glad to be home. And the quiet oasis she had created for herself in the midst of the bustle of the big metropolis was home, in a way her aunt and uncle’s house had never been.

      She paused after opening the door to her flat, taking a moment to appreciate the light, pretty surroundings and the fact that it was all hers. Her father’s foresight in making a clear, concise will after she was born had meant that on reaching the age of twenty-one she had come into a nice, tidy little nest-egg which had been held in trust for her until that date. It wasn’t a fortune, but it had meant she could afford to buy her own little home when she left university, furnish it exactly how she wanted, and still have enough left over to purchase an elderly little runabout to get her from A to B when necessary.

      She had barely taken a step or two over the threshold when the phone began to ring in her red and gold sitting room, and strangely, just as she lifted the receiver and spoke her name, she knew who it was...

      ‘Tamar?’ Jed Cannon’s husky voice caused an involuntary curling of her toes. ‘I hope you don’t mind me calling you at home?’

      ‘How...how did you get the number?’ she prevaricated bemusedly. She didn’t know if she minded or not, if she were being truthful, she admitted silently to herself.

      ‘Telephone directory,’ he said blandly.

      ‘Oh.’ She wondered how many T. McKinleys there were in the London area. She’d have to have a look later. ‘How can I help you?’ she asked carefully.

      ‘My people can get in to do a survey tomorrow morning,’ he said without any preamble, ‘and I’ve already checked with Gerald that that’s okay.’

      Have you indeed? And it’s Gerald now, is it? She was beginning to get mad.

      ‘We’ve discussed a rough price for getting the work done, and Gerald’s quite prepared to drop by the required amount Now—’

      ‘Mr Cannon—’ how dare he, how dare he take over like this? ‘—you are aware negotiations of this sort should be done through the estate agents?’ she asked icily.

      ‘Who says?’ he shot back quickly.

      ‘It really isn’t done—’

      ‘Tamar, I couldn’t give a pig’s ear about what is done and what isn’t,’ he said, with a smooth arrogance that had her telling herself desperately that she had to remember he was the buyer, that this was a huge deal, that she couldn’t afford to get on the wrong side of him and blow it. And that was besides her original plan to worm herself into his life and get him interested before she let him know what was what Which didn’t seem quite such a good idea now, somehow.

      ‘I’m working within a limited time-scale, and I haven’t got time for pussy-footing about. Right? Now, if you have a problem with that, I’m sorry, but there it is. Although surely the sooner the deal is clinched, the sooner Gerald’s happy, I’m happy, and you get your commission. Yes?’

      Blow her commission, the arrogant, supercilious, overbearing—

      ‘Right?’ he repeated coldly.

      ‘Right,’ she agreed tightly, her tone saying something quite different. And she had decided whether she minded him calling her at home!

      ‘Tamar...’ There was what sounded like a long, impatient sigh. ‘Please don’t be difficult.’

      ‘I’m not being difficult.’ Oh, this was getting ridiculous. What was she doing? She couldn’t afford to argue with him like this, she cautioned herself sharply, forcing a sweeter note into her voice as she said, ‘I’m not, really, Mr Cannon, but negotiations of this sort are what I get paid for, after all.’

      ‘And in the normal run of things I’m sure they are quite invaluable,’ he said soothingly.

      ‘Yes.’ Patronising into the bargain, she thought exasperatedly. But at the moment all the cards were stacked well and truly on his side, and all she could do was grit her teeth and play ball. ‘Well, if Mr Biggsley-Brown is happy with what you’ve discussed, I’m sure we will be,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ll have to ring him in the morning and confirm, of course.’

      ‘Of course,’ he agreed drily. ‘But I’m sure you’ll find he’s very understanding.’

      Huh! She narrowed her eyes, frowning across the room. And what was all the mad rush about anyway? Why was it so imperative for him to have a house so quickly? He had a marvellous bachelor pad—a sumptuous penthouse from all accounts—in Kensington. It wasn’t as though he didn’t have anywhere of his own to live.

      He was just being awkward—flexing his wealthy muscles and demanding that everything be done yesterday, because that was how he wanted it Ruthless to the last, she thought bitterly.

      ‘Yes... Well, thank you for letting me know what you’ve done, and I’ll be in touch once—’

      ‘Are you free for dinner tomorrow night?’ Jed interrupted evenly.

      ‘Dinner?’

      Eager delight was quite absent from her voice, and his own reflected his recognition of the fact when he said, his tone smooth but distinctly cool, ‘It’s something most people do in between lunch one day and breakfast the next.’

      Dinner. Tamar was eternally grateful Jed Cannon couldn’t see her as she leant back against the wall and shut her eyes for a moment, before taking a deep steadying breath and saying, the breathless note not at all feigned, ‘I’m so sorry, but I do have a previous engagement tomorrow...’ in the sort of voice which made it clear she would like him to suggest another evening when she could make it.

      He did. ‘Wednesday evening?’ he asked expressionlessly.

      Wednesday. That would СКАЧАТЬ