Living Together
Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘OH, do come, Helen,’ Jenny encouraged, her long blonde hair framing a beautiful face that owed nothing to artifice, her green eyes glowing with an inner beauty. ‘I can’t turn up there on my own, it would look too obvious.’

Helen sighed. ‘I don’t want to go, Jen. I’ve been telling you all week that I’m not going.’

Her cousin pouted, a beguiling gesture that usually got her what she wanted. ‘But I’ve been counting on you. No one turns up at one of these parties alone, everyone would know I was on the look-out for a man.’

Helen’s mouth quirked with humour. ‘Well, you are, aren’t you?’

‘Of course I am, but he doesn’t have to know that. Men like to think they’ve done the running, not the other way around.’

‘I’m just not in the mood for a party,’ sighed Helen. ‘Besides, my hair is a mess and I have nothing to wear.’

Jenny gave her a considering look, noting that her young cousin’s face was far too thin, the cheekbones too prominent, the violet eyes shadowed, and her full sweet mouth hardly ever smiled nowadays. Helen was beautiful, fragilely beautiful, with her shoulder-length wavy black hair, her huge violet eyes that tempted men to guess her inner secrets, her small body perfectly curved if a little on the slender side, and yet no man was allowed to break through her cool façade, her manner always polite but stilted. It had been this way since the accident two years ago, since Michael. But it couldn’t be allowed to continue!

She pulled the reluctant Helen to her feet, marching her into the bedroom they shared. ‘You have plenty to wear if you look—or you could borrow something of mine.’

‘No, thanks,’ Helen derided. ‘Most of your clothes are positively indecent.’

Jenny grinned. ‘Aren’t they? I feel really wicked in most of my evening dresses.’ She stood in front of Helen’s wardrobe and began sorting through the dresses there. She wrinkled her nose at them all. ‘You can’t wear any of them,’ she said disgustedly. ‘Not to one of these parties.’

Helen sat on the bed watching her uninterestedly. They had shared this flat for the last two years, the cheerful Jenny usually managing to jolly her out of any bouts of depression that could suddenly wash over her.

Jenny, the elder by five years at twenty-seven, managed her shamefully, organising her life for her, even down to getting her the job with the travel agency. If it had been left to Helen she would have stayed at home, she could afford to with the money she had from Michael, but Jenny had told her that it just wasn’t ‘done’ nowadays; even the rich worked. And so she worked nine until five, five days a week, deriving a certain satisfaction from the job, but knowing she wouldn’t miss it if she had to leave tomorrow.

‘You make it sound like an orgy,’ she remarked dryly.

Jenny’s grin deepened. ‘It probably will be some time towards morning, but I intend to have left long before then—preferably with Matt.’

‘Matthew Jarvis!’ Helen scorned. ‘I don’t know what you see in him.’

‘He’s incredibly sexy,’ Jenny replied instantly.

‘Ah, sex,’ Helen nodded.

‘I didn’t say sex, I said sexy,’ Jenny corrected. ‘And what’s wrong with sex, anyway? It’s very good for you.’

‘I wouldn’t know,’ Helen remarked stiffly.

Jenny blushed. ‘Well, it is. Ah, now this is the one for you,’ she pulled out a dress from her own wardrobe, holding it up against Helen. ‘Mm, it’s just perfect against the darkness of your hair.’

Helen looked down at the shimmering gown, mentally agreeing that the gold silk was a perfect foil for her hair. But she shook her head in refusal. ‘You know I can never wear anything of yours, it’s always too tight across the bust.’

Her cousin looked ruefully from her own lesser curves to Helen’s full bust. Helen was more slender on the waist and hips than she was, but however thin she was elsewhere her bust always stayed the same, made to look even fuller by her slenderness elsewhere. ‘This material has a lot of give to it,’ she encouraged.

‘What’s wrong with my own dresses?’

Again Jenny wrinkled her nose. ‘Much too stuffy. So, will you come?’ she asked eagerly.

Helen put up a hand to her hair, feeling herself weakening. ‘I look a mess,’ she repeated.

‘You can soon wash and dry your hair, we have a couple of hours before we have to leave.’

‘I’d really rather not go, Jenny.’

‘Well, you’re going,’ she was told firmly. ‘Now go and wash your hair. No arguments,’ Jenny said as she went to protest. ‘You’re going and that’s that.’

‘And what happens to me when you go off with Matthew Jarvis?’

‘I haven’t “gone off” with him yet.’

‘You will,’ Helen said with certainty. ‘What happens to me then? I’m certainly not staying for the orgy.’

Jenny giggled, standing just inside the bathroom as she watched Helen wash her hair. ‘I didn’t think you would be. Don’t worry, I won’t leave you to the wolves.’

Helen grimaced, wrapping a towel about her wet hair. ‘They wouldn’t get very far even if you did. Most of those men know to leave me alone now.’

‘There’ll be a lot of new faces tonight. I’ve never been to a Leon Masters party before.’

‘Leon Masters! The Leon Masters?’

‘Is there another one? I thought I’d mentioned who was giving the party,’ Jenny said innocently.

‘No, you hadn’t! And I know why you didn’t. The man’s a rake, an out-and-out rake!’

‘Mm, I know,’ her cousin agreed dreamily. ‘Isn’t it marvellous? I can’t wait to meet him.’

‘Are you sure this party isn’t going to be an orgy from start to finish? I’ve heard his parties can be pretty wild.’

‘So have I,’ Jenny grinned. ‘I’ve been looking forward to it all week.’

‘You’re incorrigible!’ Helen scolded. ‘I don’t know why you ever got involved with this mad crowd.’

Her cousin shrugged. ‘Brent introduced me to them.’ Brent Shaw was her television producer boss. It was also through him that she had met Matthew Jarvis, another television producer.

‘He would,’ Helen frowned. ‘He’s as immoral as the rest of them.’

‘Brent’s all right, now that he knows I have no intention of sleeping with him.’

‘You see what I mean? I don’t think—–’

‘Go and dry your hair,’ Jenny cut in. ‘We don’t have time for one of your lectures right now. I’m going to have a bath, you paint your nails.’

‘I thought you wanted me to dry my hair.’

‘All right, dry your hair, then paint your nails,’ and she disappeared into the bathroom.

Helen moved mechanically to do as Jenny had told her. She always ended up doing as Jenny suggested, and she couldn’t possibly take offence because it was always done so goodnaturedly. Besides, in the long run it was easier to agree than argue about it.

She dried her hair in soft black waves, adding a light make-up but leaving her deeply violet eyes as the only colour in her face, huge violet eyes like beautiful pansies. She had been right about the gold dress, it did cling revealingly to her breasts—too revealingly, the plunge neckline showing a creamy expanse of her firm flesh.

‘You look great,’ Jenny enthused. ‘Turn round, let me see the back.’

Helen did so. ‘It’s too tight up here,’ she grimaced down at her bust.

‘It’s perfect,’ Jenny admired the just-below-knee-length dress on her cousin.

Helen’s eyes widened as she took in the skimpy creation Jenny was wearing, its black Grecian style only just decent. ‘You aren’t actually going out in that?’ she gasped.

Jenny grinned impudently. ‘Lovely, isn’t it?’

Helen raised her eyebrows. ‘I can think of another word for it. People are going to get the wrong impression of us in these clothes.’

‘Nonsense,’ Jenny dismissed. ‘You’ll see, we’ll be overdressed compared to some people.’

She was proved correct when they arrived at the party. Several of the women there were so skimpily dressed they might just as well not have bothered. Nevertheless, Helen felt very selfconscious in her borrowed gown, trying hard to fade into the background of this flamboyant party.

She had no doubt that when it didn’t have dozens of people crushed into it this penthouse apartment was very luxurious and spacious, much too big for one man. She hadn’t met their host yet, and doubted if she would in this crowd. She gratefully accepted the drink someone handed to her and then retreated to a safe corner. Half a dozen couples were attempting to dance, if what they were doing could be classed as such, and she wished them luck.

‘Great party, isn’t it?’ Jenny beamed, her green eyes avidly searching the sea of faces.

‘Is it?’ Helen returned dryly.

‘Fantastic!’ her cousin enthused. ‘Can you see Leon Masters anywhere?’

‘I haven’t looked.’

‘Well, start,’ Jenny encouraged.

‘Why?’ Helen asked uninterestedly.

‘Because he’s gorgeous.’

‘That’s a matter of opinion.’

Jenny’s eyes widened in disbelief. ‘Don’t you think so?’

Helen shrugged. ‘I suppose so. Although he’s a bit over the top, isn’t he?’

‘Over the top?’ Jenny frowned.

‘Well, he’s too much. Too tall, too rugged, too good-looking—–’

‘Too sexy,’ Jenny put in mischievously.

‘That too,’ Helen agreed.

‘But he’s a brilliant actor.’

‘So he ought to be for the money he earns. I read in a magazine article only last week that he was being paid millions of pounds for his last film. No one is worth that much money.’

‘Oh, I don’t know,’ Jenny’s eyes twinkled. ‘If I had a couple of million I’d buy him.’

‘I don’t think you buy the man, just his talent.’

‘Oh, I’d buy that too,’ Jenny said meaningly.

Helen burst out laughing. ‘You’re impossible!’ she chuckled.

‘As long as it makes you laugh I don’t care what I am. You don’t laugh enough.’

She sobered. ‘There doesn’t seem to be a lot to laugh at.’

‘Not since Michael.’

‘No,’ Helen agreed abruptly. ‘I think I see your sexy actor,’ she changed the subject, indicating Leon Masters as he stood across the room.

Jenny followed her line of vision. ‘Oh boy, I just have to get an introduction. I’ll ask Brent. Coming?’

‘No, thanks,’ Helen grimaced. ‘I don’t want to listen to how wonderful he thinks he is.’

‘He may not be conceited.’

‘Want to bet?’

‘No,’ Jenny laughed. ‘Although Matt and Brent think he’s great.’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, love, but as far as I’m concerned that’s no recommendation.’

‘Okay,’ her cousin shrugged. ‘You’ll be all right?’

‘I think I’ll be safe,’ she teased.

‘See you later!’

Helen watched with amusement as Jenny persuaded her boss to introduce her to their host, smiling as Jenny proceeded to try and dazzle him with her beauty. From the way Leon Masters listened to her with lazy amusement she didn’t appear to be succeeding.

Suddenly he looked up and those tawny coloured eyes met hers across the smoke-filled room. She shifted uncomfortably under that steady gaze, her violet eyes shadowed. She turned away, her cheeks fiery red. The look in his eyes had been insolent and assessing, and she had felt almost naked as his gaze ran slowly over her.

She looked back at him, her nervousness lessening slightly as she saw he was now concentrating on Jenny’s bubbly conversation. At least Jenny would be pleased.

Leon Masters looking at her like that had unnerved her. He had looked at her as if he saw her as an attractive woman, something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. Oh, she was passable to look at, quite pretty if you liked small, dark-haired women. But Leon Masters looking at her like that had made her feel totally feminine.

He was hot property in the acting world, and had been for the last fifteen years. He was constantly working, his acting superb. She had just seen him in a play on television where he had been almost unrecognisable in the role of the bumbling idiot, a character far removed from the suave man of experience he was in reality. He looked totally the dominant male tonight, dressed completely in black from head to foot, the black silk shirt clinging to his powerful shoulders and chest, the trousers fitted snugly to his hips and thighs.

It was obvious that most of the women here were attracted to his rugged magnetism, and Helen supposed he could be called very attractive with his over-long sun-bleached blond hair, piercing tawny-coloured eyes set over a hawk-like nose, firm mouth with a full sensuous lower lip, the lines of experience beside nose and mouth that added, not detracted, to his looks, and the lithe masculinity of his tall powerful body. With the exception of Helen, there wasn’t a woman in the room who wouldn’t give anything to be his partner for the evening, and yet he appeared to be alone.

At thirty-four he had never been married, to Helen’s knowledge, and looking at him now as he flirted easily with Jenny and another girl who had joined them she thought it wasn’t hard to work out why he had remained single. Why marry one woman when there were hundreds, thousands, for the taking? A wife might be a tie he didn’t need; there had certainly never been a shortage of women in his life.

‘Enjoying yourself?’

Helen turned to smile at Matthew Jarvis. ‘Are you?’

He gave a husky laugh. ‘I asked you first.’

She shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’

‘You look fantastic’

‘Meaning I don’t usually?’ she teased. Matthew Jarvis was a man in his mid-thirties, very good-looking in an obvious sort of way, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and yet he left her cold, like every other man she had met the last two years. No man could touch her now. Except … Leon Masters had briefly got through the shell she had erected about her emotions—and she didn’t like him any the more for doing so.

‘Hey, you know I didn’t mean that. You just look different tonight.’

Helen grimaced. ‘I borrowed one of Jenny’s dresses.’

‘And it looks great on you. Where is your lovely cousin tonight—My God!’ he had obviously seen Jenny. ‘What’s she nearly got on?’

She couldn’t help laughing at his expression, a light tinkling sound that caused many heads to turn in their direction, including Jenny’s and the man who stood at her side. Jenny grinned, waving to them both, and Helen smiled back, the smile fading as she saw Leon Masters was looking at her too. She met that look for several long seconds before turning away.

‘It suits her,’ she answered Matt.

‘I know it suits her, I just don’t like it.’

Helen frowned. ‘Does it matter what you like?’

‘You’ve never approved of me, have you, Helen?’ he said slowly. ‘Why?’

‘It isn’t anything personal, Matt. I don’t like or trust any of your sex.’

‘That’s a challenge few men could resist,’ drawled a deep voice from behind her.

Helen spun round to confront Leon Masters, her cousin standing at his side. They had come upon them unnoticed and Helen resented his intrusion into her conversation. She looked the actor steadily in the eye, willing herself not to be unnerved by the warmth of his gaze. ‘Do you enjoy a challenge, Mr Masters?’ she asked coolly.

He shrugged, his gaze unblinking. ‘What man doesn’t?’

’This is my cousin Helen, Leon,’ Jenny introduced.

‘Cool Helen,’ Leon murmured softly, still looking at her.

His tawny eyes on her were starting to make her feel uncomfortable. ‘How did you guess?’ she asked.

‘It wasn’t difficult,’ he taunted.

She was starting to feel hot now. Why did he keep staring at her like that? Jenny and Matt might just as well not have been there for all the notice he took of them.

‘Let’s dance, Jenny,’ Matt suggested, obviously taking the hint. ‘We aren’t needed here.’

‘Good idea,’ she accepted, smiling into Helen’s shocked face.

‘Oh, but—–’

A hand clamped about her wrist. ‘I’ll take care of Helen for you,’ Leon Masters said smoothly. ‘But don’t come looking for us when you’ve finished, we won’t be here.’

‘Watch Helen,’ Matt advised lightly. ‘The coolness goes right through.’

‘Is that true, Helen?’ Leon Masters asked once they had gone, moving to stand in front of her, his closeness blocking out the rest of the room.

‘The name is West,’ she said tightly, aware of the tangy smell of his aftershave and a much more potent smell, a totally male aroma that attacked the senses. Or at least it would have done if she weren’t totally immune to all men. ‘Mrs West.’

He raised his eyebrows. ‘Your cousin didn’t tell me you were married.’

‘Just what did she tell you about me?’ she flashed, her mouth tightening.

‘Not a lot, I must admit. I didn’t see any husband with you when you arrived.’

‘I wasn’t aware you’d seen us arrive.’

‘I never miss out on a beautiful woman.’

’I hope you aren’t referring to me,’ she said stiffly.

‘Your cousin is lovely, but she doesn’t have your fragility, your wraithlike beauty. I noticed you as soon as you came in.’

She wondered how many other women he had told the same thing this evening. ‘Am I supposed to be flattered?’

‘Not particularly. You really meant it when you said you don’t like men.’ He sounded surprised.

‘Did you think I didn’t?’

‘Some women like to pretend they feel that way. For some reason they imagine it makes them more interesting to men.’

Her top lip curled back. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m the real thing.’

‘Except for your husband, of course.’

‘Sorry?’ she frowned.

‘You must like your husband.’

‘If you say so,’ she agreed tautly.

‘Is he here with you?’

‘No.’

‘In that case, would you like to leave?’

Helen was taken aback. ‘Are only single people and married couples allowed at your parties, Mr Masters?’

‘Hardly,’ he gave a husky laugh, his teeth firm and white against his tanned skin. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you leave alone, I was asking you to leave with me.’

Helen looked puzzled. ‘But this is your party.’

Leon shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I want to leave. I thought you wanted to come with me.’

‘You thought I—–! Why on earth should you think that?’ she demanded angrily, curious in spite of herself.

‘Didn’t you?’ he quirked one blond eyebrow, his superior height making her feel small and strangely fragile.

‘Certainly not!’ she told him crossly. ‘Whatever gave you that impression?’

‘You did.’

’I did?’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken, Mr Masters. I have no wish to leave here or anywhere else with you.’

‘That isn’t what your eyes were saying a few minutes ago.’

Helen had to tilt her head right back to look at him. ‘Does every woman who so much as looks at you have to be attracted to you?’

He grinned down at her. ‘No. But I’m attracted to you, cool Helen.’

‘Don’t you mean “cold” Helen?’

‘Oh no,’ he said huskily, intimately. ‘Cool is a temperature only just off normal, I’d like to think you could become the latter.’

‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr Masters, but I think cold is a more suitable description.’

Leon frowned. ‘Has some man hurt you, is that it?’

Helen stiffened. ‘Men don’t get close enough to me to be allowed to cause pain. Now, if you’ll excuse me …’ she brushed past him.

His hand snaked out and caught her upper arm, his lazy indolence belied by the unexpected strength of his grip. He was in the peak of physical condition, another thing that surprised her about him. His tawny eyes were narrowed and assessing now. ‘How old are you?’ he queried softly.

Her violet eyes flashed her dislike. ‘My age is irrelevant to the way I feel.’

‘Twenty? Twenty-one?’ He ignored her outburst.

‘Twenty-two, actually,’ she snapped.

‘Such a great age,’ he mocked. ‘What happened, did he walk out on you?’

‘He?’ she said sharply, a nervous pulse in her throat.

His hand slid caressingly down her arm to catch her hand, turning it over to look at the narrow gold band on the third finger. ‘Your husband.’ He lifted her head, the startling tawny eyes all-seeing. ‘Did he leave you?’

Her breath caught in her throat at the directness of the question. ‘You could say that, Mr Masters,’ her mouth turned back. ‘He died.’

Leon frowned. ‘Your husband is dead?’ He didn’t sound as if he believed her.

‘I would hardly lie about something like that,’ she answered waspishly, shaking off his hold on her. She brushed past him and this time he made no effort to stop her.

She had to get out of here, had to leave. Talking about Michael had brought back memories she would rather forget, memories that could prove too painful for her peace of mind. She left the apartment and the building in a daze, just wanting to get away from taunting tawny eyes and a cruel mocking mouth.

Leon Masters had no right to intrude on her private hurt, no right to pierce the armour she had wrapped about herself. It was months since anyone had questioned her about Michael, mainly because of Jenny interceding on her behalf. She obviously hadn’t thought it necessary where Leon Masters was concerned, which wasn’t surprising. Who would have thought he would even speak to her, let alone get so personal?

Unless of course Jenny had just decided it was time she stopped protecting her as far as Michael was concerned. After all, it was two years since it had happened, two years in which the pain should have lessened. And yet it hadn’t! If only she had been able to cry about it she might have been able to snap out of this numbness, but tears had eluded her, leaving her with her bitterness.

She shivered as she felt a velvet jacket slipped about her shoulders, a familiar smell of tangy aftershave drifting up from the soft grey material. Gentle hands moved her hair from its confinement in the jacket collar, and she looked up to meet searching tawny eyes.

‘I didn’t think you were lying, Helen,’ Leon told her softly, pulling the lapels of the jacket more firmly about her. ‘You’re just very young to have been married and widowed.’

‘I was twenty when he died,’ she said in a stilted voice.

Leon walked along beside her, pacing himself to her smaller steps. ‘Had you been married long?’

She came to an abrupt halt. ‘I wish you hadn’t followed me,’ she said curtly, handing him back his jacket. ‘I left my coat behind, perhaps you could ask Jenny to bring it home with her.’ She turned on her heel and walked off.

She sensed rather than saw him still at her side, and a burning anger began to well up inside her. Why didn’t he just go away and leave her alone!

Leon put the jacket back around her shoulders. ‘You’ll catch cold in what little you’re wearing.’

‘Oh, so that’s it,’ she sighed. ‘Borrowed plumage, I’m afraid, Mr Masters. This dress isn’t me at all, not my style. I’m sorry if you got the wrong impression from it, but I’m really not out for a cheap affair, not with you or anyone else.’

Steely fingers clamped on her arm and spun her round, the other hand moving to wrench up her chin, forcing her to meet the anger in his narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself that I want an affair with you either!’ he snapped. ‘Frigid women aren’t my type.’

The colour drained from Helen’s face, leaving her chalk-white. ‘I’ll never forgive you for saying that!’ she told him vehemently. ‘Never, as long as I live. Get your hands off me!’ she ordered in a controlled voice.

‘Like hell I will!’ He pulled her so hard against him she lost her balance and would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her. ‘At least, not before I’ve thawed some of that ice!’ His lips ground down savagely on hers.

Helen felt the taste of blood as he split her bottom lip against her teeth. And all she could feel was nausea—nausea for his mouth on hers, nausea for his hands pressing her body against his. She twisted her head from side to side in an effort to escape that punishing mouth, but he kept right on kissing her.

She could feel hysteria rising within her when he at last released her, her eyes deep purple smudges of pain in her pale, tense face. She rubbed her hand across her mouth to erase his touch, uncaring of the blood she was smearing across her cheeks.

‘My God!’ Leon was almost as pale as she was. ‘You’re not frigid at all, you’re just plain scared.’

‘I hate you!’ she spat the words at him. ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!’ Tears were streaming down her face by this time. ‘How dare you touch me! How dare you!’

Then she was running, running, desperate to get away from him. His jacket fell unheeded to the ground and still she kept on running. She didn’t stop until she was sure he hadn’t followed her. That was when she flagged down a taxi, uncaring of the sight she must look with her dishevelled appearance and the blood on her face.

She was a hunched-up ball of misery when Jenny burst into the flat an hour later. She had felt numb by the time she got home, completely unable to do anything other than collapse on the sofa.

Jenny put the light on with a flick of the switch. ‘My God!’ she breathed softly. ‘Oh, my God!’ She ran over to cradle Helen in her arms. ‘Oh, Helen,’ she choked. ‘What did he do to you?’

‘Who?’ Helen asked dazedly.

Jenny smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Leon Masters!’ she said angrily.

Reaction was setting in in earnest now, a terrible shaking invading her limbs, her teeth chattering. ‘H-how do you know about that?’

‘Because he told me. That’s why I’m here. After disappearing for nearly an hour from his own party he came back and told me you needed me. He didn’t exactly say why, but I could guess. What did he do, Helen?’ she probed gently.

‘He—–’ Helen swallowed hard. ‘He kissed me!’ She shuddered at the memory of it, once again feeling those firm passionate lips on hers. No one had kissed her since—since Michael, and she could only feel angered and sick at Leon Masters daring to do so.

Jenny searched her features. ‘Is that all?’

Helen jerked away from her. ‘Isn’t it enough!’

‘But I—well, it was only a kiss, Helen,’ Jenny chided lightly. ‘You’ve been kissed before.’

‘No! No, I haven’t. Not since—not since—Michael,’ Helen had difficulty in even saying his name. She held herself stiffly. ‘I hate him!’

‘Michael?’

‘Leon Masters!’ Helen said sharply. ‘He kissed me and it—it was horrible. Horrible!’

‘He’s certainly made a mess of your mouth.’ Jenny touched her torn lip. ‘That’s going to be swollen and sore tomorrow.’

‘It’s sore now.’

‘I don’t suppose he appreciated you fighting him.’

‘That isn’t why he did it.’ Helen took a deep ragged breath. ‘He kissed me because he said—he said I was—frigid.’

Jenny frowned. ‘Does he know you’ve been married?’

‘Oh yes,’ Helen acknowledged bitterly, ‘he knew. He seemed to think it was his duty to snap me out of my frigidity.’

‘The insensitivity of the man!’ Jenny muttered. ‘Did you tell him about the accident, about—–’

‘No!’ Helen cut in shrilly. ‘No, I didn’t tell him anything. Why should I? He means nothing to me.’

‘But he’d like to. He more or less demanded that I introduce the two of you.’

’Well, I wish you’d said no.’

‘Stay there,’ Jenny ordered as she began to move. ‘I’ll get a cloth and clean your face up.’

Helen grimaced. ‘I wasn’t going anywhere, just getting comfortable.’

Jenny was back within seconds, gently sponging the blood off Helen’s face. ‘He was a bit rough with you,’ she murmured thoughtfully.

Helen winced as she touched a tender spot. ‘Rough!’ she repeated disgustedly. ‘He was like an animal!’

‘Oh, surely not. He—–’

‘He was like an animal,’ she insisted. ‘I suppose he thinks that because he’s who he is I should have felt honoured by his attention to me. He had the nerve to think I was attracted to him.’

‘And you weren’t?’

Helen touched the soreness of her mouth. ‘Doesn’t this tell you the answer to that?’ she grimaced.

Jenny shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’ She walked over to pick up the telephone and began dialling.

‘Who are you ringing?’ Helen asked curiously.

‘The man.’ She was obviously listening to the dialling sound.

‘The man?’

Jenny grinned. ‘Leon Masters.’

‘Whatever for?’ Helen demanded.

‘He wanted me to let him know you’d got home safely and that you were okay.’

Helen stood up to leave the room. ‘If he felt that strongly about it he should have come and found out for himself. But of course that would have been too much trouble, and—–’

‘He wanted to come,’ Jenny cut in softly. ‘He drove me home and asked to come in, but in the circumstances I thought it might be better if he didn’t.’

‘Thank goodness for that! I never want to see him again. And I should stop ringing if I were you, he’ll never hear the telephone above the din that was going on there.’

‘But he—Ah, Leon,’ Jenny pursed her mouth pointedly at Helen. ‘Yes, yes, I know you’ve been waiting for my call. Yes. No. Yes. I—–’

‘I’m going to bed,’ Helen told her crossly. ‘Don’t wake me up when you come in.’

Jenny held the receiver away from her ear, her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘He wants to talk to you,’ she whispered.

‘Tell him we have nothing to talk about,’ and Helen walked out of the room.

Seconds later Jenny followed her into the bedroom. ‘He says it’s important.’

‘We have nothing to say to each other,’ Helen said firmly. ‘Tell him I’m not interested.’

‘I can’t tell him that!’ Jenny exclaimed, scandalised.

Helen shrugged. ‘Okay, tell him what you please, but I want nothing more to do with him. And, Jenny,’ she stopped her cousin in the process of leaving, ‘please don’t tell him anything about my private life.’

Jenny sighed. ‘I can hardly do that—even I don’t know all of it.’

‘Well, don’t tell him what you do know.’

‘As if I would!’

‘You may not mean to. I was with him long enough to know he could charm anything out of you if he really set his mind to it.’

‘Anything?’ Jenny teased.

‘Anything,’ Helen returned lightly. As usual Jenny’s bubbly good humour was having a calming effect on her.

But she lay awake a long time that night after she knew Jenny to be asleep. She might resent and despise Leon Masters’ unwelcome intrusion into her life, might hate him for kissing her, but there was one thing she had to acknowledge. In the two years since the accident, since Michael’s death, she hadn’t cried once, not over anything, and yet half an hour after meeting Leon Masters she had been crying almost hysterically. And she didn’t like the fact that he had been the one to take the first brick off the wall she had built around her emotions; she didn’t like it one bit.

CHAPTER TWO

‘ARE you sure you won’t come?’ Jenny cajoled. ‘It’s sure to be fun.’

‘I’m not in the mood for a boating trip,’ Helen refused, her nose buried in a particularly good murder story.

Jenny laughed. ‘It isn’t a “boating trip”! Cruising over to France for the day can hardly be called that,’ she said disgustedly.

Helen rested her chin on her drawn-up knees, the denims she wore old and worn, her blouse casually unbuttoned at her throat for coolness. ‘It is to me. And I don’t want to go to France, I’m perfectly comfortable where I am.’

‘But you can read that book any old time.’

‘And I can go to France any old time too. I do work in a travel agency, you know. I get discount.’

‘But this trip would be for free.’

‘I don’t want to go,’ Helen told her firmly. ‘I haven’t forgotten the last time you persuaded me to go out when I didn’t want to.’ She touched her bottom lip, which after a week still showed some signs of bruising. ‘Everyone at work thought someone had slugged me one.’

‘It wasn’t my fault Leon Masters took a fancy to you.’

Helen grimaced. ‘Thank goodness he’s stopped telephoning now.’ He had telephoned every day for five days, but for the last two she had heard nothing from him.

‘Why?’ Jenny teased. ‘Were you beginning to weaken?’

’Certainly not!’ But Helen was aware her denial didn’t carry conviction. ‘I’m glad he’s stopped trying.’

‘Maybe he hasn’t,’ Jenny remarked casually. ‘Maybe he’s just trying a different approach.’

‘Absence making the heart grow fonder?’ Helen queried wryly.

‘Something like that.’

‘It hasn’t,’ she told her firmly.

‘Sure?’

‘Very sure.’

‘And you won’t come today?’ Jenny persisted. ‘You just have time to get ready if you’ve changed your mind, Matt won’t be here for another ten minutes.’

‘I haven’t changed my mind.’ Helen stretched, yawning tiredly. ‘I’ve had a hard week, I’m going to lie back and relax.’

‘You could relax on the boat.’

‘No, thanks. 1 know that crowd, you have to fight off lecherous men all the time. And talking of lecherous men,’ Helen smiled mischievously, ‘you’ve seen rather a lot of Matt this week.’

Jenny blushed prettily. ‘He isn’t lecherous.’

Helen quirked an eyebrow. ‘You mean he’s changed?’

Her cousin laughed. ‘No, silly! He’s just never been that way with me. He even told me off for wearing that dress last Saturday.’

‘Mm—well, I wish you hadn’t persuaded me to wear one of yours. It gave Leon Masters the wrong impression. It may look good on you, but with my—well, my fuller figure up top it was too revealing to be thought anything other than a come-on.’

Jenny grinned. ‘And he came on strong!’

‘Too strong,’ Helen agreed ruefully. ‘He frightens me. He’s so—so assured, so arrogant.’

‘As long as he makes you feel something. That has to be an improvement.’

‘What do you mean?’ Helen asked sharply.

’You’ve been a bit—well, a bit emotionless since Michael,’ Jenny explained gently.

Helen bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been hard to live with. It’s just that after Michael I find it hard to live with anyone.’

‘I know, love.’ Jenny squeezed her hand. ‘And you aren’t difficult to live with, completely the opposite, in fact. You seem to have lost all your zest for life, shut yourself in from people. I wish you could put it all behind you, be like you were before it all happened.’

‘You can never go back, Jenny. What’s happened happened, you can never change it, and I can never be that person again.’

‘I still wish—–’ Jenny broke off as the doorbell rang. ’That will be Matt, and I’m still not quite ready. Be a pet and answer the door for me while I brush my hair.’

‘Okay.’ Helen climbed reluctantly off the sofa, her denims emphasising her slenderness.

‘And don’t seduce my boy-friend on the doorstep,’ Jenny warned teasingly.

‘He should be so lucky!’ Helen called after her.

She let Matt in, taking him into the lounge. He was very attractive in casual white trousers and shirt, looking healthy and attractive.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘You aren’t ready.’

‘No,’ she sat cross-legged on the sofa, ‘I’m not going.’

‘Not going! But—–’ he turned to Jenny as she came through from the bedroom. ‘Helen’s just told me she isn’t going.’

‘That’s right, she isn’t.’

Was it Helen’s imagination or did she see that look pass between them? She shrugged. ‘Is it that important? I’m sure you two would rather be without an unwanted third person.’

‘You aren’t unwanted,’ Matt said smoothly. ‘We would love you to come along.’

‘I’ve already been through all that,’ Jenny told him, as she picked up her bag from a chair. ‘She can be very stubborn, can our Helen.’

‘But—–’

‘She doesn’t want to go, Matt,’ Jenny said firmly. ‘And nothing will persuade her.’

This time Helen was sure she could sense an undercurrent, a feeling they knew something she didn’t. Jenny hadn’t emphasised the word ‘nothing’, and yet the inflection had been there all the same.

‘Is there something you aren’t telling me?’ she asked them.

Jenny frowned. ‘Why should you think that?’

She shrugged. ‘Just your manner. Is there something?’

‘Well, actually—–’

‘No,’ again Jenny cut in on Matt, ‘there’s nothing. Shall we go, Matt?’ she said pointedly.

‘But—–’

‘Shall we go?’ she repeated firmly.

He sighed. ‘Oh, all right. But he isn’t going to like it.’

‘He?’ Helen picked up sharply. ‘And who might “he” be?’ she asked suspiciously.

Jenny gave Matt an angry glare. ‘Now look what you’ve done! I had no intention of mentioning that he was behind the invitation.’

‘Oh,’ Matt looked shamefaced. ‘I see.’

‘By “he”,’ Helen said tautly, ‘I take it you mean Leon Masters?’

‘Well—–’

‘Of course we do,’ Matt acknowledged impatiently. ‘Hell, what’s the use of prevaricating, Jenny?’ he snapped as she went to interrupt yet again. He looked down at Helen. ‘Leon wants you there today.’

Her mouth tightened. ‘Does he now?’ She looked angrily at her cousin. ‘I take it this is what you meant by a different approach?’

‘Now look what you’ve done, Matt!’ snapped Jenny. ’Why couldn’t you have just kept quiet?’

Helen stood up. ‘I’m glad he didn’t. So I was supposed to go along today as Leon Masters’ companion,’ she mused softly. ‘God, that man has a nerve! Doesn’t he know how to take no for an answer?’

Jenny shrugged. ‘I should think it’s quite a few years since anyone said it. It’s a new experience for him.’

‘Well, his new experiences can continue. Tell him the answer is still no.’

‘Now look, Helen,’ Matt chided. ‘Leon isn’t an easy man to cross. He can be a right swine at times.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ she said bitterly. ‘But I don’t have to say yes to him. Some of the other women in his life may not have been so lucky—I’m sure he has a lot of influence in the acting world.’

‘Hey, now I wouldn’t ever say he’s used blackmail to get a woman,’ Matt admonished. ‘When I said he could be a swine I meant in his manner and verbally. As far as I know he’s always played it straight with everyone.’

‘Except me,’ said Helen vehemently. ‘He was being underhand and arrogant in getting you to take me with you today. All it’s done is increase my dislike of him. Tell him his little plan failed—miserably. I don’t like him and I don’t want to go out with him.’

Matt raised his eybrows. ‘Another new experience! Most females I know would love to have your opportunity.’

‘They’re welcome to it!’

‘Come on, Matt,’ Jenny linked her arm through his, ‘let’s get out of here before you do any more damage. I think you’ve put your foot in it enough for one day.’

He looked sheepish. ‘Well, how was I to know you hadn’t told Helen about Leon’s involvement?’

‘You should have tried using a little common sense.’

‘Please don’t argue about it, you two,’ Helen told them. ‘It isn’t worth it.’

Jenny bent to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Sorry, love. I was only doing what I thought best.’

‘Involving me with Leon Masters?’ Helen derided.

‘With any man. I didn’t care who it was.’

‘Thanks!’

Jenny sighed. ‘You know what I meant. I was only trying to help.’

Helen grimaced. ‘That kind of help I can do without.’

‘All right, I know when I’m beaten. Have a nice day.’

‘And you.’ Helen picked up her book. ‘And don’t rush back on my account.’

‘We don’t intend to,’ Matt said moodily.

‘Don’t be such a bad loser,’ Jenny chided teasingly.

‘It’s all right for you, but what do I tell Leon? He’s going to be furious,’ he groaned.

‘You’ll think of something,’ Helen said uncaringly. ‘Preferably the truth.’

‘Which is?’

‘That I’m not interested,’ she said in a bored voice.

She went back to her book, pretending an interest she no longer felt until she heard them leave, then relaxed back on the sofa. Leon Masters had a nerve using a trick like that to try and trap her into meeting him. She had no doubt that he had been the one to insist on secrecy about his presence there today.

Thank heavens she hadn’t agreed to go. She didn’t want to meet Leon Masters again, not in any circumstances. And she didn’t want to probe this reluctance too deeply; sufficient to say she didn’t want to see him.

The book that had seemed so good earlier on no longer held her attention, her thoughts drifted again and again, and to things she would rather not be reminded of, painful things that could only hurt her. Why was it always Leon Masters who disrupted the even tenor of her life like this, however unwittingly? Why did he have the power to anger and unnerve her at one and the same time? What was it about him that—

She scowled as the doorbell rang, and got reluctantly to her feet to answer it. It couldn’t be the milkman, she had paid him yesterday, and they weren’t expecting anyone to call today. It must be someone for her cousin.

Her mouth fell open as she saw who stood on the doorstep. It was Leon Masters, vital and attractive in dark brown fitted shirt and trousers, the sunlight shining on his golden hair. ‘What do you want?’ she asked rudely.

He raised his eyebrows at her aggression. ‘To come in.’

‘Why?’ she snapped.

‘So that I don’t have to talk to you standing on the doorstep,’ he said softly, not rising to her anger.

Still she didn’t ask him in. ‘What are you doing here? Wasn’t there anyone available for you to send?’ she sneered.

Leon didn’t wait any longer for her invitation to come inside but pushed past her and walked into the sitting-room. ‘Nice room.’ He sat down.

‘We like it,’ she said abruptly, glowering down at him. ‘I don’t remember inviting you in.’

He gave a slow lazy smile and relaxed back on the sofa, his legs splayed out in front of him. ‘If I’d waited for that I’d still be out there. Sit down, Helen. Relax.’

‘With you?’ she scorned. ‘I can’t relax with someone I don’t trust.’

He sighed. ‘That lets out about ninety-nine per cent of the population. I know you’ve been hurt, but—–’

‘What do you mean?’ she demanded suspiciously.

‘I mean you lost your husband at a very early age,’ he said slowly, watching her closely. ‘But you can’t let something like that warp the rest of your life.’

Helen gave a bitter laugh. ‘You don’t know the first thing about it, so don’t presume to offer me advice.’

‘You’re too young to be buried with your husband,’ Leon said forcefully. ‘You have to get on with living, not bury yourself in the past.’

‘Mind your own business!’ Her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘No one asked you here, no one asked for your advice, so will you just leave?’

‘No,’ he told her calmly. ‘Why didn’t you come to the boat with Jenny and Matt?’

‘Didn’t they tell you?’

‘They muttered something about you being tired, about you wanting to spend the day quietly, that you get seasick. Oh, they came up with any number of reasons for you not being with them, but it was obvious what the real one was.’

‘I’d already decided not to go before Matt told me you would be there,’ she said defensively.

He smiled. ‘I know that. I’m not an ogre, you know, Helen, I won’t do anything about the fact that Matt let the secret out.’

‘I couldn’t give a damn what you do.’ She resumed her cross-legged position in the chair, as far away from Leon Masters as she could get.

‘I thought not.’ He sat forward. ‘You look like a little girl sitting like that,’ he remarked softly.

‘Well, you can depend on it, I’m not!’

‘Thank God for that,’ he laughed huskily. ‘Even at twenty-two you’re a little young for me, any younger and I couldn’t even consider it.’

‘Consider what?’ she asked sharply.

‘Your seduction.’

Helen stood up jerkily, moving to the back of the chair and clutching it. as if for protection. ‘Would you please leave?’ she said shakily.

He didn’t move. ‘I’ve already said no. I’m going to get you, Helen, so you might as well give in without a fight.’

‘I’d fight you to hell and back!’ she told him fiercely. ‘I’d fight any man that came near me.’

’Did you love your husband so much?’

She was suddenly calm again, her face emotionless. ‘My feelings for my husband are my own concern.’

‘That mask of yours slips away every now and then, doesn’t it?’ he mused softly. ‘My cool Helen occasionally becomes the fiery woman she must once have been. Does anyone else get to you like I do, Helen?’ he probed shrewdly. ‘Does any man get to you like I do?’

She turned away. ‘You flatter yourself, Mr Masters.’

‘Why don’t you like being touched, Helen?’ he continued his probing.

‘God, I hate you!’ she glared at him. ‘What right do you have to come here and ask me personal questions? Just who do you think you are, that you can—–’

‘I’m going to be your lover, Helen,’ he cut in smoothly.

‘I—You’re what?’

‘Your lover. That’s what I’m going to be.’

‘But I—I don’t want—I don’t want a lover!’ She was white, deathly white. ‘Please, stop this. Leave me alone,’ she begged, despising herself for her weakness. ‘Oh, please, Leon, leave me alone!’ The last came out as a choked sob.

He stood up and came to stand in front of her. ‘I can’t, my cool Helen. You have me tied up in knots. If it’s time you want, you’ve got it, but you have to let me see you, be with you, talk to you.’

She looked at him with huge frightened eyes. ‘But why? Why does it have to be me? There are thousands of women—–’

His hand caressing her cheek stopped the flow of words, dropping back to his side as she flinched away from him. ‘It just has to be you. I can’t explain it, so don’t ask me to. I’ve tried to be with other women, but I can’t get you out of my mind.’

‘But I don’t even like you,’ she said desperately.

‘At the moment you don’t like any man. Your emotions are dead. I’d just like to be the man who’s around when you decide to start living again. Is that too much to ask?’

She moved away from him, his proximity unnerving, shaking her head dazedly. ‘I don’t ever want to get involved with a man again.’

‘You have to get involved, have to allow yourself to feel for any relationship to work.’

‘But I don’t want a—a relationship.’ She looked at him pleadingly. ‘Don’t you understand, I don’t want that!’

‘Okay, okay,’ he soothed. ‘Forget that for the moment. Just come out with me today.’

‘I thought you said to forget it.’

‘Going out for the day together hardly constitutes a relationship,’ he taunted. ‘And I had my chef prepare a picnic luncheon for us when I found out you weren’t joining us on the boat.’

‘Your chef?’ she echoed.

He shrugged. ‘It was my yacht.’

‘You mean you’ve walked out on your guests a second time?’ she was amazed.

He gave a rueful grin. ‘I must admit it’s getting to be a habit of mine.’

Helen felt a reluctant smile curve her lips, and her eyes met his as she heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘What is it?’ she asked curiously.

‘That’s the first time you’ve smiled at me, really smiled at me.’

She blushed. ‘You weren’t exactly pleasant to me the last time we met.’

‘No,’ he agreed slowly. ‘You’re completely different from any other woman I know, and I’m not sure how to handle you. I’m not used to women who don’t—–’

‘Fancy you,’ she finished teasingly.

‘I wasn’t going to say that.’ He looked at her with dark brooding eyes. ‘Don’t you “fancy” me, Helen? Answer truthfully,’ he added warningly.

‘You’re very attractive.’ She did as he said. ‘Very handsome, very assured, very—–’

‘Are you attracted to me?’

She bit her lip, frowning her despair, knowing she would arouse his anger with her answer. ‘No,’ she admitted huskily, unable to look at him.

Leon drew a ragged breath. ‘Do you practise being cruel or does it come naturally?’ he asked in a strained voice.

‘I’m sorry,’ she replied jerkily, ‘but I thought you wanted honesty.’

‘Like I was with you?’ he rasped.

‘If you like,’ she nodded. ‘You were honest about wanting me, I’m being just as honest when I say I don’t feel the same way. I’m sorry if it wasn’t the answer you wanted.’

‘Hell, Helen, you aren’t sorry at all,’ he snapped angrily. ‘You’re enjoying this, enjoying seeing how much you can hurt me. Well, I’m not hurt, I’m bloody furious! I came here—–’

‘Because you want an affair with me,’ she finished disgustedly. ‘But I can’t help it if I don’t want you. You can’t force these feelings.’

‘The trouble with you is that you don’t have any feelings.’

Helen turned her back on him. ‘I’m glad I don’t. I—–’ She broke off as he spun her round, cringing from the determination she could see in his face. ‘Don’t kiss me! Please, don’t kiss me!’ she cried her anguish.

He flung her away from him. ‘I don’t want to kiss you,’ the words were wrung from him. ‘I could shake you until your teeth rattle, but I don’t want to kiss you! You might as well have died with your husband for all the feeling there is in you,’ he added cruelly.

‘I wish I had,’ she choked. ‘I wish to God I had!’

She heard the door slam as he left, then slowly turned to face an empty room. She crumpled down on to the carpeted floor, sobbing hysterically. She might claim to have no feelings, but Leon Masters was making her live again, dragging her forcibly out of her living hell, and it was much more painful than the limbo in which she had existed the last two years.

’More coffee?’ Jenny asked her over breakfast on Monday morning, a breakfast that for Helen had consisted only of coffee.

‘No, thanks,’ she replied absently. ‘I—I have to be going in a minute. I don’t want to be late to work.’

‘Just once wouldn’t hurt. You look as if another cup of coffee wouldn’t come amiss.’

Helen grimaced. ‘I could probably do with a whole potful,’ she stood up, ‘but I have to finish getting ready.’

‘I really didn’t know he was coming here,’ Jenny said in a rush. ‘At least, not until we’d already got under way and I realised he wasn’t on board.’

Helen took great interest in combing her wavy shoulder-length hair. ‘It’s quite all right, Jenny. He didn’t stay long.’

‘Long enough to upset you all over again. You were only just starting to get over the previous Saturday. You were like a ghost when I got in.’

‘I was fine,’ Helen lied. ‘And I don’t think Mr Masters will be bothering me again. A chase is fine, but an out-and-out battle is too much like hard work,’ she said lightly. ‘And with me it would be a battle.’

‘Maybe he just isn’t the one for you.’ Jenny bit thoughtfully into her toast. ‘He is a bit overpowering, and maybe a little too old and experienced. But you do need someone in your life, Helen, someone you can care about.’

‘Why?’

‘Because—well, because everyone needs love.’

’I don’t. At least, not that type of love. And I don’t believe that what Leon Masters wanted from me had anything to do with love—of any kind. He only came here to tell me that he wanted me—wanted me, Jenny, nothing else.’

‘Well … it’s a start.’

Helen shook her head. ‘Not for me.’

Jenny sighed; ‘No, I suppose not.’

Helen frowned. ‘Aren’t you going to get ready for work?’ Her cousin was still in her dressing-gown and it was already a quarter to nine.

Jenny grinned. ‘Brent’s given me the day off for being a good girl.’

‘Oh yes?’ Helen queried suggestively.

‘Now, now,’ Jenny chided, ‘I told you there’s nothing like that between Brent and me.’

Helen shrugged. ‘Things could have changed.’

‘Well, they haven’t. He gave me today off because I worked late Friday evening. Anyway, he’s away for the day.’

‘How the other half live,’ Helen said teasingly. ‘Well, this working girl is off to another hard day at the office.’

Jenny grinned. ‘My heart bleeds for you!’

Helen laughed. ‘I’ll bet! Say, perhaps you should marry Brent and then you could take days off all the time.’

‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Jenny said ruefully.

‘Jen?’ Helen probed gently.

‘Just joking,’ she gave a bright smile. ‘You’re going to be late,’ she reminded her.

‘Jen, about Brent—–’

‘We’re just good friends, as the saying goes. And likely to remain that way.’

‘But you would like to change the arrangement?’

Jenny bit her lip. ‘I’m not sure. Probably not. Let’s forget it.’

’But—–’

‘I said forget it, Helen. Sorry,’ Jenny mumbled. ‘Touchy subject.’

‘If you ever feel like talking about it you know I’m always here,’ she told her cousin.

‘I know,’ Jenny smiled. ‘You’ll be out of a job if you don’t leave.’

‘Goodness, yes! See you later.’

Helen almost ran from the underground to the travel agency, but she was still late in, an unusual occurrence for her. Mr Walters gave her a disapproving look as she got in at nine-fifteen, looking no less annoyed even after she had apologised.

She quietly got on with her work, her thoughts drifting to the events of the weekend. It had been an uneventful time once Leon Masters had left, but that hadn’t stopped her thinking about him, of the things he had said to her. No matter how she denied it the things he had said to her had affected her, flattered her in a way. Leon Masters was an important man, a celebrity, and yet he was attracted to her.

‘That’s the wrong file for that, Mrs West.’ Mr Walters was at her elbow as she filed a letter in the wrong envelope. ‘Are you feeling quite well?’

‘Oh, oh yes.’ She took the letter out of the file. ‘I’m perfectly well, thank you.’

‘Then concentrate, Mrs West,’ he frowned. ‘There would have been utter confusion when we came to look for that confirmation.’

‘Yes, Mr Walters.’ She stifled a smile as Sally winked at her across the office.

The only male among six females, Mr Walters tended to be rather stand-offish and domineering, although he probably needed to be. It couldn’t be easy controlling so many females in one office.

Sally strolled over to her desk on the pretence of helping her file some invoices. ‘Have a nice weekend?’

’Not bad.’ She hadn’t mentioned to any of the girls that she had met Leon Masters the previous weekend and saw no reason to mention the fact that she had met him again. Besides, it seemed too incredible, even to her, that he had actually shown an interest in her. Film stars of his fame just didn’t enter the life of someone like her.

‘I had a great time,’ Sally mused. ‘Steve took me to meet his mother.’

‘Nice?’ Helen murmured.

‘Very. A bit possessive over Steve, perhaps, but I’ll soon change that,’ Sally said with certainty.

‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Helen warned. ‘Possessive mother-in-laws can’t be changed.’ She knew that from experience! Michael’s mother had never been able to see any wrong in her son.

‘Oh, I’m not aiming to change her,’ Sally said happily. ‘Steve and I will be emigrating once we’re married. Most of my family are in Australia now that my mother and father are dead.’

‘How does Steve feel about the move?’

Sally grinned. ‘He doesn’t know yet. But he’ll agree, I’m sure of it. My sister will be able to arrange for a house for us and get Steve a job with her husband’s company.’

‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’ commented Helen.

‘It will save arguments.’

‘I wish you luck,’ Helen said dryly. Sally might feel quite confident about her plans, but she didn’t think it was going to be as easy as that.

‘Mrs West?’ She looked up to see Mr Walters. ‘Far be it from me to complain,’ he continued sarcastically, ‘but you were late in this morning, and have spent the time since talking. Would it be too much to ask for you to actually do some work today?’

‘Sorry,’ Helen mumbled.

She did in fact get on with her work after that. It was a dead end job, but in a way she enjoyed it. The girls were all good company, with none of the bitchiness existing in this office that often occurred when several women worked together, and even Mr Walters had been known to let his hair down on occasion, joining in the odd joke.

‘I tell you it is him,’ Katy whispered.

‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Sue said equally softly. ‘What would he want in a travel agency? Any travelling he did he certainly wouldn’t arrange for himself, he’d have a secretary to do things like that.’

‘But I’m sure it’s him,’ Katy insisted. ‘I saw one of his films only last week, and I’d recognise him anywhere.’

By this time their hushed conversation had penetrated Helen’s concentration. She had been working solidly since Mr Walters’ reprimand and was only now beginning to feel the faint stirrings of hunger for her lunch; she usually left about one o’clock and it was nearly that now.

But Katy and Sue’s whispering had broken in on her train of thought and she looked over to the front desk to their source of conversation. All the colour drained from her face as she recognised Leon Masters. Wearing a black leather jerkin and light tan shirt and trousers, he looked vitally attractive, his hair almost silver.

Her breath caught in her throat as his tawny gaze levelled on her, and she hurriedly turned away. What was he doing here? It couldn’t be just coincidence. But how had he found out where she worked? What did he want? Her thoughts were racing in her panic. She had thought he would leave her alone after Saturday, had hoped he would leave her alone. She looked at him again as he engaged in conversation with Mr Walters, wondering what he wanted.

‘What do you think, Helen?’ Katy leant over to her desk.

She looked at the other girl blankly. ‘Sorry?’

‘Is it Leon Masters or isn’t it?’ Katy said impatiently.

Helen swallowed hard. ‘It—–’

‘Mrs West,’ Mr Walters called her over, ‘this gentleman would like a word with you.’

From the angry inflection in his voice she would say Mr Walters hadn’t recognised Leon. He would certainly have been different in his attitude if he had.

She stood up, selfconscious about the curious stares of the other girls. Sally had already left for her lunch, but Helen had no doubt the other girls would soon tell her of Leon’s visit when she returned to the office.

‘What do you want?’ she demanded of him in an angry whisper. ‘We aren’t supposed to have visitors here.’

Leon looked unperturbed. ‘I came to take you out to lunch, not visit you.’

‘Oh, but—–’

‘And don’t say you’ve already been to lunch, because I know you haven’t, I asked your boss. Besides,’ he grinned, ‘Jenny said you never go to lunch before one,’ he looked at his gold wrist-watch, ‘and it’s just that now, so if you’re ready?’

‘Jenny told you where I worked?’

‘I went round to the flat, forgetting you would be at work, and she sent me on here. Now don’t be angry with her, she only told me because I told her I wanted to apologise to you.’

Helen scowled. ‘You could have done that over the telephone.’

‘Lunch would be so much nicer. Get your coat,’ he ordered.

‘I will not! I—–’

‘Get it, Helen,’ he commanded softly. ‘You surely don’t want to cause a scene here?’

‘I’m not going to cause a scene.’

‘No,’ he smiled, ‘but I am.’

She raised her eyebrows derisively. ‘Over a little office girl?’

‘Over a very beautiful but stubborn woman,’ he corrected. ‘I think I could stand the publicity, can you?’

Helen gave him an angry glare before collecting her lightweight jacket, not looking at anyone as she left with him, embarrassed beyond words.

‘Why did you have to do that?’ she groaned once they were outside. ‘They’ll all be agog with curiosity when I get back.’

Leon took her elbow in a firm grasp. ‘Worry about that later.’

‘It’s all right for you to say that. You—–’ She stopped as she saw he was directing her towards a gold-coloured Porsche parked on a double yellow line. ‘Where are you taking me?’

He opened the car door for her. ‘I told you, lunch. Get in, Helen, there’s a good girl. There’s a menacing-looking policeman making his way over here.’

She gave him a sweet smile of sarcasm. ‘I’m sure you could manage to charm your way out of it.’

‘Maybe.’ He pushed her inside the car before going round the other side and getting in himself. ‘But I don’t intend wasting any time trying.’ He manoeuvred the car into the flow of traffic.

‘That remark you made just now,’ Helen said tentatively. ‘What did you mean by it?’

He gave her a fleeting glance. ‘Which remark?’

‘About the publicity.’

Leon shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I don’t mind it being known I’m attracted to a very lovely lady.’

Helen sighed. ‘I didn’t mean you, I meant what did you mean by asking if I could stand the publicity?’ She gave him a searching look, but could tell nothing from his expression.

He frowned. ‘I thought may be you wouldn’t like me to cause trouble at your place of work.’

’Is that all?’ she probed suspiciously.

They were heading out of town now and Leon turned to look at her momentarily. ‘What else could I have meant?’

Helen evaded those searching tawny eyes. ‘You tell me.’

He shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’

‘You—you really don’t know?’

‘Know what, for God’s sake?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘Do you have some murky secret in your past that you don’t want people to know about?’ he teased.

Helen drew a ragged breath. ‘Don’t joke about it, Leon.’

‘You mean you do have a secret?’

‘It wasn’t such a secret a couple of years ago, and I just couldn’t bear for it all to be raked up again.’

‘For what to be raked up? Come on, Helen, you might as well tell me now you’ve gone this far.’

Her hands twisted nervously together in her lap. ‘My—my husband was Michael West.’ She looked at him searchingly, watching for the recognition, for the disgust.

‘So? What does—Michael West?’ he queried softly.

She bowed her head. ‘Yes.’

‘Of West Hotels?’

‘That’s his father, actually.’

‘You were married to Mike West?’ He sounded incredulous.

‘Yes,’ she admitted chokingly.

‘Then you must be—–’

‘I’m the girl who married him, lived with him for only two days before walking out, and was called a fortune-hunter by the press for weeks afterwards.’

CHAPTER THREE

‘BUT you can’t be!’ Leon denied, glancing at her again.

She gave a bitter smile. ‘But I am.’

‘You’re the girl who stayed with him just long enough to consummate the marriage? The girl everyone said had only married him for what she could get out of the divorce settlement?’

Helen bit her bottom lip to stop it shaking. ‘That’s right.’

Leon gave her a scathing look. ‘I don’t believe you. You’re making this up. What are you, some sort of sensation-seeker?’ he rasped.

‘I’m telling you the truth, Leon,’ she said quietly.

‘No!’ he snapped. ‘You can’t be. That girl isn’t you. You aren’t like that at all.’

She gave a wan smile. ‘You’re only the second person to see that I’m just not capable of such subterfuge, and for that I thank you.’

‘The second person?’

‘Jenny has always believed in me too.’

He frowned. ‘You mean you really were married to Mike West?’

‘I really was.’ She met his gaze unflinchingly.

‘My God!’ he breathed softly.

‘So now you can see why I don’t want to be seen with you. Whatever you do, whoever you see, it’s news. If the press saw me with you they wouldn’t stop probing until they’d unearthed the fact that I was married to Michael, and the whole thing would be dragged up again. I would be hounded, and I couldn’t take that. And it wouldn’t do you much good either.’

‘But if you’re Mike’s widow why do you work?’

’Have you forgotten the fact that Michael was killed in a road accident only four months after we were married? I didn’t have time to divorce him and claim all that money the press said I wanted. His money was left to his parents in his will. I received only a token amount, enough not to work if I didn’t want to, but certainly not a fortune.’

‘I still don’t believe it,’ he said firmly.

‘That I was married to Michael, or that I could do the things they said I did?

‘Either of them. I met Mike West a couple of times—he was like a spoilt child, into every vice going,’ he added disgustedly. ‘You couldn’t have married someone like him.’

‘But I did.’ And paid for it in a thousand different ways! she thought. She noticed for the first time that they were heading back to town. ‘Where are we going now?’

‘Back to my apartment,’ he told her tersely. ‘We have to talk this thing out, and I would rather do it in privacy.’

‘I can’t.’ Helen looked at her wrist-watch. ‘I have to get back to work, my lunch-hour is nearly up.’

‘Say you’ve been taken ill.’

She shook her head. ‘Mr Walters would guess I wasn’t.’

‘Okay, so you lose your job,’ he snapped. ‘You just said that you’re rich enough not to have to work.’

‘I am,’ she said stiffly. ‘But I enjoy the work, I enjoy seeing other people. I realise what I’ve told you must have come as something of a shock to you—but believe me when I say I wouldn’t want to involve you in my scandalous past. I did try to put you off, but you just wouldn’t take the hint. Now, if you’ll just drop me off at work we’ll forget we ever met, or that we had this conversation.’

‘Like hell we will!’ His knuckles showed white as he gripped the steering-wheel tightly. ‘We’re going to talk this thing out, as I said we would.’

‘No!’ she refused sharply. ‘I—I can’t talk about it, not to anyone. And you shouldn’t get involved with me, not even temporarily.’

‘I’ll make my own decision about that—when we’ve talked.’

Helen swallowed hard. ‘You’re a very determined man, Leon, but even determination can’t change my past.’

‘I’ll decide about your past when I know more about the facts,’ he said grimly. ‘And if you won’t talk about it now we’ll talk about it tonight, over dinner.’

‘I told you, you shouldn’t be seen with me.’

‘If it makes you any happier we’ll eat at my apartment.’ It didn’t make her any happier, and her trepidation must have shown. ‘Don’t worry, my cool Helen,’ he taunted, ‘my manservant will act as chaperone.’

‘Talking won’t change a thing,’ she mumbled.

‘Maybe not, but it might help me understand.’

‘How I came to be a money-grasping little bitch?’ she scorned. ‘That’s what Michael’s mother called me in the newspapers,’ she told him bitterly.

‘Mothers tend not to see any wrong in their children,’ Leon said dryly.

‘Do they?’ Her voice sounded hollow.

‘So I believe. Will you come tonight?’ he asked gently, the Porsche once more parked on the double yellow lines near the travel agency.

She sighed. ‘As long as once we’ve talked you just forget you ever knew me, or that I was married to Michael.’

His hand moved out to caress her cheek, dropping away as she flinched. His eyes narrowed. ‘I won’t promise you anything. I want to know the truth and you’re going to tell it to me, with no promises on either side.’

Helen licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘You’re asking a lot,’ she quivered, not knowing whether she was up to discussing the past, whether she could take the pain involved in remembering.

‘All I’m asking from you is honesty.’ Leon gave a derisory smile. ‘I thought we had agreed that honesty was something we could give each other.’

She vividly remembered the last time she had given him complete honesty and knew that he remembered it too. ‘Very well, Mr Masters, I’ll have dinner with you,’ she gave in wearily.

‘Leon,’ he prompted softly. ‘It’s been Leon for the last hour.’

‘Yes,’ she acknowledged breathlessly, pushing open the door. ‘I—I’ll see you later.’ She got out of the car, anxious to get away from him.

He leant over the seat. ‘Seven-thirty, okay?’

‘Make it eight,’ she said jerkily, already regretting agreeing to have dinner with him. ‘I have to get home and change.’

‘Eight o’clock,’ he nodded mockingly, aware of her ploy to spend less time with him. ‘Be ready.’

As she had surmised, the girls were all curious to know if it really had been Leon Masters. Helen denied this, not wanting anyone to know they had met. These things had a way of leaking out.

‘It certainly looked like him,’ Katy said moodily, obviously not convinced. And who could blame her; Leon’s attraction was unique!

‘There may have been some similarity,’ Helen agreed with a pretended degree of thought. ‘But that’s all it was.’

‘He wasn’t similar,’ Katy dismissed the description disgustedly. ‘He was exactly like him.’

‘I didn’t think so,’ Sue maintained her first opinion. ‘This man was much younger.’

‘Don’t be silly,’ Katy scowled. ‘He was exactly Leon Masters’ age.’

‘How old he looked or who he looked like isn’t really important,’ Sally cut in. ‘Whoever he was he sounds like a very dishy man. You didn’t tell us you have a handsome boy-friend tucked away in your life,’ she teased Helen.

There was a lot she hadn’t told them, if they did but know it! They would be as scandalised as everyone else if they knew they were actually working with Mike West’s widow. ‘He isn’t tucked away,’ she denied calmly. ‘I’ve only met him a couple of times.’

‘What’s his name?’ Sally asked interestedly.

‘L-Larry. His name’s Larry,’ Helen lied.

Sally pulled a face. ‘Not as nice as Leon. When are you seeing him again?’

‘Tonight.’

‘Lucky you!’

Helen didn’t think so. She bitterly regretted agreeing to meet him, and regretted even more that she had told him anything about herself. But perhaps after he had had time to think about what she had told him he wouldn’t turn up tonight. She hoped that would be the case.

‘But why did you tell him about Michael?’ Jenny demanded to know that evening. ‘You could surely have put him off some other way.’

‘He wouldn’t be put off.’ Helen pushed the food about her plate. ‘I thought telling him I was Michael’s wife might do it.’

‘But it didn’t?’

‘No,’ she sighed. ‘He didn’t believe me at first, and when I finally managed to convince him he said he didn’t believe me capable of doing something like that.’

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