Escape Me Never. Sara Craven

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СКАЧАТЬ Roger had roared with laughter about it, but Cass hadn’t been so amused, watching take after take being ruined. And the girl was still wooden, she thought, viewing the finished product critically. If the fitted kitchen industry collapsed, she would probably never work again. Or if the client’s wife found out, Cass thought drily.

      As she switched off the set, she heard her front door buzzer. Mrs Barrett, she thought, returning for the tray.

      ‘Come in,’ she called. ‘It isn’t locked.’

      She sank gratefully back on to the sofa, curling her legs under her.

      He said, ‘Don’t you think you should keep it locked. I might have been a burglar.’

      Cass jumped, every nerve ending jangling, as she stared at him, leaning against the door jamb.

      She said, stammering, ‘What—what are you doing here?’

      ‘Checking the invalid’s progress,’ he said pleasantly, and strolled forward.

      She said hurriedly, ‘I’m fine,’ aware as she spoke, that she was involuntarily tucking the folds of her dressing gown further around her feet and legs, and that the hazel eyes had taken sardonic note of her action.

      ‘Yes, I’d like to sit down,’ he said mockingly. ‘And, no, I won’t have any coffee, thank you.’

      Cass flushed. ‘Well, I’m not offering,’ she said grittily. ‘Perhaps you’d leave.’

      ‘Not when I’ve only just got here.’ He shrugged off the supple suede car coat he was wearing, and dropped it across the arm of the sofa, then sat down opposite her, stretching out long legs. He was more casually dressed this evening, she couldn’t help noticing, with dark brown pants moulding themselves to his body, and topped by a matching roll neck cashmere sweater. She looked away hurriedly, fiddling with the sash of her robe. ‘Besides, I want to talk to you, and you were in no fit state for conversation when I called yesterday.’

      ‘Why did you?’ She glared at him.

      ‘To see if your sudden illness was genuine, or just a convenient excuse for avoiding me.’

      ‘You flatter yourself, Mr Grant,’ Cass said defiantly. ‘I’m hardly concerned enough about you and your boundless male egotism to go to those lengths.’

      He raised eyebrows. ‘You never miss a chance, do you, Cass? I’ll bet you’re the pride of the local sisterhood. Even when you’re struggling back from the ‘flu, you’re punching your weight. Actually, I thought I should reassure you.’

      ‘About what?’ She gave him a wary look.

      ‘The Eve cosmetics account.’ He paused. ‘You seemed to think there might be—strings attached. You’re wrong.’ He gave her a long look. ‘And you’re also wrong if you thought I’d tell Finiston about your unique method of turning down dinner invitations.’ His smile was thin. ‘So if you were expecting repercussions, there’s no need.’

      Cass bit her lip. She couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t a relief. ‘Thank you,’ she acknowledged stiltedly.

      ‘Please don’t mention it,’ he said, too courteously. ‘Now the next item on the agenda. Why the hell did you hand me all that “I’m a married woman” garbage, when you’ve been a widow for at least four years?’

      Cass lifted her head defiantly. ‘To try and convince you that I wasn’t interested in you or your invitations. You didn’t seem prepared to take no for an answer.’ She paused. ‘How did you find out?’

      ‘A few casual questions at Finiston Webber. It was amazing the amount of information that was volunteered.’

      ‘Including my address,’ she said bitterly.

      He laughed. ‘No, I got that from the telephone book. So, if you want to keep my visits here as another of your little secrets, then there’s nothing to stop you.’ He linked his hands behind his head, and watched her from beneath lazily drooping lids. ‘Your colleagues regard you as something of an enigma, did you know that?’

      ‘It’s not something they’re likely to discuss with me,’ she said flatly. ‘Perhaps you’d extend me the same courtesy, and keep out of my personal affairs.’

      He gave her a mocking look. ‘But there don’t seem to have been any, Cass. Even the mildest approaches have had the brush-off. Why? And don’t tell me your heart’s in the grave,’ he added cynically. ‘The vibrant creature who sold me an advertising campaign didn’t give that impression at all.’

      ‘That’s typical masculine arrogance,’ she said stormily, her breasts rising and falling jerkily. ‘None of you can believe that it’s possible for a woman to lead a full, satisfying life without a—a tame stud somewhere in the background.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Well, believe this, Mr Grant. I’ve been married. My husband is dead. I have a child and a career, and I love both of them. There’s no need, no room in my life for another—relationship. Incredible as it must seem, I’m just not interested.’

      The long lashes lifted, and the brilliant hazel eyes searched her flushed passionate face remorselessly. ‘Do you prefer women perhaps?’

      The breath caught in her throat. ‘Oh.’ She almost threw herself off the sofa. ‘Of course. The obvious explanation. If not one sexual connotation, then another. My God, you make me sick.’ She paused, swallowing thickly. ‘Now—get out. Just because I don’t fancy you, doesn’t give you the right to force yourself into my home and insult me.’

      ‘Is that what I did?’ He rose, and, barefoot as she was, she felt dwarfed although she’d always regarded herself as being of reasonable height for a woman. But it wasn’t just a physical thing, she thought. It was a question of personality, an aura of vibrant, sensual masculinity which was almost tangible, making the small living room seem cramped.

      He said softly, ‘Why the hostility, Cass? Why the aggression? When other men have tried to get near you, you’ve always let them down lightly. What makes my treatment so different? From the moment you ran into my arms in that corridor, you looked as if you’d been poleaxed. All afternoon, I was watching those beautiful wounded eyes, and asking myself “Why?” I’m still wondering.’

      ‘Because for a moment you reminded me of my late husband,’ she said shortly. ‘Now, will you please go?’

      The dark brows snapped together, and his mouth compressed tautly. He gave a short, unamused laugh. ‘I suppose I should have expected that. But I didn’t.’ He shook his head. ‘All right, Cass, I’ll go and leave you to convalesce in peace.’

      At the front door, he paused, the lean tanned face sardonic. ‘Well, good evening, Ms Linton. It’s been—instructive, if nothing else. And I forgive you for lying to me about your marriage. Because, I have to confess, I lied to you too. I implied my dinner invitation had no sexual motive. It wasn’t true. I wanted to get you into bed, Cass. I still want to, and I will.’

      Before she could guess his intention or take evasive action, he took her by the shoulders, pulling her towards him in one swift, effortless movement. She cried out, but the sound was instantly muffled under the brief, searing pressure of his mouth.

      It was over almost at once. He smiled at her.

      ‘And СКАЧАТЬ