Stranger From The Past. PENNY JORDAN

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СКАЧАТЬ hope you’re right,’ Meg told her. ‘There’s a bug going round that starts off with a headache and then develops as full-blown flu. Half the town seems to be going down with it.’

      ‘Don’t tempt fate,’ Sybilla pleaded. ‘The last thing we need right now is a flu epidemic.’

      There had been several calls while she’d been out, and as she attended to these she started signing the letters Meg had prepared in her absence. At four o’clock she had a girl to interview, a possible new addition to their pool of temps, who had trained as a computer-operator prior to the birth of her first baby, but who now wanted to get back to work. They were always on the look-out for reliable staff, and if Ray did ask them to provide him with extra temps while he was expanding his business they would need to take on at least three new girls. Of course, after her lunch-date with him he might decide to place his business elsewhere. If he did, then he did, she decided grimly, half inclined to wish that he would, even though she knew from a business point of view his was a very valuable contract.

      At ten to four Belinda rang to confirm that she would be back at the office in the morning.

      ‘How did the lunch with Ray Lewis go?’ she asked.

      ‘Not very well,’ Sybilla admitted.

      ‘Mm. I’m sorry I had to land you with that one, but I know how good you are at being tactful and diplomatic.’

      Tactful and diplomatic. Well she certainly hadn’t exhibited those virtues today, Sybilla reflected a couple of hours later as she prepared to leave the office.

      The girl she had interviewed had been very promising, and had left agreeing to think over their terms and come back to them.

      Now all she had to do was spend the evening going over the paperwork she was taking home with her, and with a bit of luck the next day she would be able to enjoy the day off she had forgone today.

      Her garden was crying out for some attention and she had promised herself that this year she would redecorate her spare room. She had also promised her parents she would visit them and spend more than her normal brief weekend with them, and even Belinda had warned her that if she didn’t allow herself a proper holiday this year she would be in danger of becoming a workaholic.

      Her head was still aching when she got home and the back of her throat felt sore as well.

      She told herself that it was all that talking over lunch that was responsible for her sore throat, sternly refusing to admit the possibility that she was succumbing to the virulent strain of flu Meg had told her was sweeping the town.

      She couldn’t afford to be ill, she told herself grimly half an hour later as she sipped a mug of coffee. And she didn’t intend to be, either.

      Even so, at eight o’clock, when her headache still hadn’t gone away and her sore throat persisted, she found herself giving in to the desire to go upstairs and soak in the luxury of a long hot bath, prior to indulging in an early night.

      Wearily she finished her coffee and headed for the stairs.

      CHAPTER THREE

      THE bath might have eased the tension of the day from Sybilla’s muscles, but it had done nothing to alleviate either the pain in her head or her sore throat, she admitted as she climbed out of the steaming scented water and wrapped herself in a large dry towel, frowning as she suddenly heard someone ringing her doorbell.

      She paused, hoping that whoever it was might go away, but she had always been one of those people who found it impossible to ignore either a ringing telephone or a doorbell, and whenever she’d tried the anxiety and guilt she’d experienced had been so acute that she had learned it was far easier to give in and to acknowledge their summons no matter how inconvenient it might be.

      It would probably only be Emily, her neighbour, anyway, calling round to thank her for getting their shopping this morning and hopeful for a bit of a chat.

      She hurried downstairs, her feet still bare, her body damp beneath her towel, apologising as she started to open the door.

      ‘Sorry to take so long, I was just having a bath—’

      And then abruptly she fell silent as she realised that it wasn’t her next-door neighbour who was standing there.

      ‘Gareth,’ she proclaimed weakly. ‘What on earth…? What are you doing here?’

      ‘Thanks for the warm welcome.’

      He was over the threshold and standing in the hall beside her before she could stop him, tall, broad-shouldered, filling the small space, making her realise how small and vulnerable she was in comparison. Without her shoes she barely stood much higher than his shoulder.

      She felt a rash of gooseflesh break out on her skin, and a reaction burning deep within her body that made her feel a helpless surge of anger and fear.

      It wasn’t right that he should affect her like this…it wasn’t fair. She was over him completely and absolutely. Or so she had believed.

      How could he stand there like that, challenging her shock at seeing him, when he must know? She shivered suddenly, sending a small shower of water droplets from her damp hair on to her bare shoulders.

      She watched as Gareth homed in on her tiny betraying shudder, grey eyes narrowing as he focused on her.

      Her mouth felt unbearably dry. She had to fight an overpowering impulse to flick her tongue over her dry lips to moisten them. As though he knew somehow what she was feeling, he looked at her mouth.

      ‘You know, you hardly look a day older than you did at fifteen.’

      The flat hard words jolted through her, hurting her.

      What was he trying to say? That, to him, she was as sexually unappealing now as she had been then? Well she hardly needed him to tell her that.

      The arrogance of the man! Did he really think…? Resolutely ignoring that sharply painful frisson of sensation she had experienced earlier, that brief moment of self-awareness when she had realised that, somehow, some part of her was still physically capable of reacting to him, she responded curtly, ‘Really? It must be the poor light in here.’

      No doubt he was comparing her make-up-less, shiny face to the soignée elegance of his woman friend’s sophistication. Well she didn’t care what he thought of her, she told herself recklessly. He wasn’t the only man in the world, and his opinion wasn’t important to her any more. He could think what he wished of her.

      ‘What is it you want, Gareth?’ she demanded, refusing to give in to the weakening sensations beginning to spread through her body.

      He was standing much, much too close to her. She could smell the cold crisp scent of the night on his skin and clothes. If she touched his face it would feel cool, the bones hard beneath his skin, and if he touched her…

      She swallowed nervously, her eyes darkening betrayingly as they mirrored her confusion and apprehension.

      As she grappled mentally with the appalling unwantedness of what she was feeling, she heard Gareth saying drily, ‘Now that might be construed as a very leading question, or an extremely naïve one, only I don’t СКАЧАТЬ