Tempestuous Affair. Carole Mortimer

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      Lindsay stiffened, her expression uncertain. ‘Still?’ she enquired softly.

      Cally patted her hand understandingly. ‘You mustn’t mind that I know the two of you are living together—Joel just happened to let it slip one day,’ she explained gently.

      ‘Oh,’ said Lindsay dully. ‘Then perhaps I should tell you that we aren’t, not any longer.’

      Cally frowned at this. ‘Since when?’

      ‘Since I moved out.’

      ‘You did?’ The other woman was obviously surprised that she had been the one to end the relationship. ‘That must have been a surprise for poor Joel,’ she added questioningly.

      ‘You could say that,’ Lindsay grimaced.

      ‘Oh, I do,’ Cally nodded, looking thoughtful. ‘The way he was talking it was a permanent arrangement.’

      ‘As permanent as anything can be with a man like Joel,’ Lindsay derided.

      ‘No, I mean it,’ Cally said, perfectly seriously. ‘I really thought this was “it” for him.’

      ‘If you mean love, Cally, then you should know him better than that,’ said Lindsay flatly.

      ‘He still has that problem, hmm?’ Cally nodded shrewdly.

      Lindsay gave her a sharp, probing look. ‘What problem?’

      ‘He doesn’t know how to accept or give love.’

      Her expression was dejected. ‘How can you accept or give something you don’t know exists!’

      ‘Oh, Lindsay,’ Cally was all sympathy. ‘Don’t——’

      ‘What the hell is delaying you, Lindsay?’ Joel suddenly appeared in the studio doorway, his eyes narrowing as he saw Cally perched provocatively on the side of Lindsay’s desk. ‘I might have known you had something to do with it,’ he snapped. ‘What’s wrong, has married life begun to pall already?’ he taunted.

      Cally stood up, smoothing down the skirt of her dress with deliberate slowness before walking over to kiss him lingeringly on the mouth, seeming immune to his glowing displeasure. ‘Married life is wonderful,’ she gave him a mocking sideways glance. ‘I would highly recommend it.’

      His mouth twisted. ‘Then you must be one of the few people who do,’ he derided. ‘And after only two months I don’t think you’ve had time to really speak with any authority.’

      ‘Cynic!’ she said goodnaturedly, used to his bad humour.

      ‘Realist.’ He shot Lindsay a telling glance. ‘I simply don’t have stars in my eyes about an institution that’s been failing for years. I’d rather get myself certified!’

      Lindsay blanched, knowing the last was being said for her benefit, that Joel was making it clear once again that he would never contemplate marriage, to anyone. And that wasn’t fair, because she had never mentioned marriage to him.

      ‘Keep on the way you are,’ Cally drawled mockingly, ‘and I might just do it for you.’

      He looked down at her with narrowed tawny eyes. ‘What do you mean?’ he bit out.

      ‘Lindsay tells me you’re no longer living together,’ she provoked. ‘You have to be insane to have let her escape.’

      ‘Cally——’

      ‘It was Lindsay’s decision to leave,’ Joel forcefully cut in on her dismayed response to Cally’s taunting.

      ‘Well, no one could think her insane for leaving you, darling,’ Cally mocked. ‘You’re virtually impossible to work with, let alone be with twenty-four hours a day.’

      ‘I take it this is what friends are for?’ he rasped. ‘To insult you?’

      ‘To tell you the truth when necessary, sweetie,’ she touched his cheek affectionately.

      ‘Well, today I can do without it,’ he dismissed harshly. ‘Come through to the studio if you want to talk to me, if you don’t then stop keeping my employees from their work,’ he added coldly.

      Lindsay was still pale from his last dig at her. This last one made her flinch, something Joel seemed as immune to as he was every other emotion. She didn’t know how she could ever have fooled herself into thinking he would one day love her!

      ‘Here’s the file you wanted.’ She handed it to him, taking care not to touch him, a fact he seemed well aware of as his mouth twisted derisively.

      He nodded acknowledgement of the file, turning to Cally. ‘Are you staying or going?’

      ‘Much as I hate to turn down your gracious invitation,’ she mocked him, her eyes gleaming with mischief, ‘I have to meet David in a few minutes, so I can’t stay long. I actually came round to invite you both to dinner at the weekend. Although in the circumstances perhaps I should say invite you both and your respective partners.’ She looked at them with feigned innocence.

      Joel’s scowl deepened, and Lindsay wondered, not for the first time, how Cally dared to antagonise him when he was in this mood. She always steered clear of him at such times, although perhaps Cally felt that their past association allowed her to. goad him in this way.

      ‘Suits me,’ he snapped. ‘Just tell me what time and day, and I’ll be there.’

      ‘Saturday, eight o’clock.’ She looked enquiringly at Lindsay. ‘Is that okay for you?’

      Any evening and time suited her at the moment, they were all free. But she had no idea who she could take as her ‘partner’ for the evening. ‘Fine,’ she agreed lightly, ignoring the way Joel’s eyes narrowed speculatively. No doubt he would have no trouble at all finding someone to accompany him!

      ‘Now, Joel,’ Cally put her arm through the crook of his arm, walking into the studio with him, ‘I just have time for you to tell me all about …’

      The rest of the conversation was cut off as Joel firmly closed the door behind them. Lindsay put up a shaking hand to her temple, as she sat down behind her desk. The next month, while she worked her notice, was going to seem a very long time indeed.

      ‘Hey, are you all right?’ asked a concerned voice, the accent distinctly American. ‘You look a little pale.’

      Lindsay looked up into the attractive face of the man leaning over her desk, a man of about forty, possibly a little younger, with dark hair heavily tinged with grey at his temples, and pale blue eyes that could also look grey in certain lights or moods. Even leaning over as he was she could see he was tall, his tailored suit fitting him well, his lean body containing a liquid grace that spoke of training of movement.

      ‘I’m fine.’ She sat up straighter in her chair, a little unnerved by the way he kept staring at her with warm blue eyes. ‘And I’m afraid the agency who sent you must have made a mistake—Mr Sutherland doesn’t photograph male models.’

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