Книга - The Tempestuous Flame

The Tempestuous Flame
Carole Mortimer


Carole Mortimer is one of Mills & Boon’s best loved Modern Romance authors. With nearly 200 books published and a career spanning 35 years, Mills & Boon are thrilled to present her complete works available to download for the very first time! Rediscover old favourites - and find new ones! - in this fabulous collection…Match made with the millionaire!Caroline Rayner is tired of her father’s matchmaking attempts. Even without meeting him, she is sure arrogant businessman Greg Fortnum, with his rakish reputation, isn't her type! So escaping to their family cottage in Cumbria is the perfect hideaway—until wealthy, sophisticated, and irresistibly attractive Andre Gregory shows up…But when Caroline figures out Andre’s true identity, they realise they've both been tricked! Neither of them wanted to be set up, but after their time alone together, are they a match made in heaven?












The Tempestuous Flame

Carole Mortimer







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)




Table of Contents


Cover (#u4cea1338-e66b-52a6-938c-f82f78d7aa1c)

Title Page (#uf72b1f5c-5daf-5d30-85c1-c6fbd9b95a5e)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)




CHAPTER ONE (#u5074b75c-0a51-585b-b09d-91868c494543)


‘BUT why can’t he find his own wife, Daddy?’ Caroline burst out. ‘And why pick on me at all?’

‘Because I told him I would introduce you to him, that’s why,’ said her father firmly. ‘Now don’t start being difficult. I’ve asked him here for the weekend, and I want you to at least be polite to him. You’ll like him, everyone does.’

‘You mean most women do! And if they like him that much, they can marry him, because I’m certainly not going to!’ She glared indignantly at the equally stubborn man sitting opposite her. Her father often had weird ideas, but this was definitely the weirdest. No one in their right mind could seriously expect her to consider this ridiculous scheme of his, except for her father, of course.

Matt Rayner sighed heavily, his mouth set in disapproving lines. ‘For goodness’ sake, Caroline, no one’s suggesting you marry him—yet. All I’m asking is that you meet him and try to like him. I don’t know why you have to make such a fuss about one little meeting.’

‘Because I know you too well. I bet you’ve already booked the church and hired the cars. It’s just not on, Daddy. I won’t do it,’ she told him adamantly, smoothing back her long blonde hair behind her ears. ‘He can’t be much of a man if he can’t find his own wife.’

Matt looked at the rebellious look on his young daughter’s face and knew he had pushed the subject of Greg Fortnum enough for one day. ‘Greg is very much a man, but he’s also a busy one and badly in need of a wife. All right,’ he put up a silencing hand, ‘I won’t mention the subject any more—for the moment. But he’ll still be coming here for the weekend, and I do expect you to be polite to him.’

Caroline picked up her handbag in preparation of leaving. ‘Of course I would have been polite to him, but why you suddenly have this feeling of friendliness towards the man I have yet to work out. You’ve always told me he’s an arrogant, ruthless and sometimes callous man.’

‘Business man,’ Matt corrected. ‘There’s a difference. Inside business Greg is all of those things, but outside the boardroom he’s—–’

‘Just the same,’ finished Caroline. ‘I’m not completely stupid, Daddy, I can read. And some of the things I’ve read about that man just don’t bear repeating. And you want me to marry such a man,’ she added with disgust, flouncing angrily to the door of the lounge.

‘I do not! I just think it would be a good idea for you to—–’

‘And what can he possibly think of me?’ she interrupted him again. ‘I ask you! You probably made me sound like a husband-hunter. And don’t bother to deny it, I know your sales talk too well to believe anything else. You’ve given me the same rubbish about four times in the last two years, so I can imagine what you told Mr Fortnum. I can almost feel sorry for him!’

‘Well, mat’s a start.’

‘No! How many times do I have to tell you? Anyway, I’m going away this weekend, so you’ll have to entertain your guest on your own.’

‘Caroline! You can’t just go off like this. What can I possibly do with Greg all weekend?’ Matt ran a frustrated hand through his prematurely grey hair.

‘I’m sure you’ll think of something,’ she smiled sweetly before letting herself out of their apartment. Let him sort that one out for himself.

Life roared into the powerful engine of her low sports car and she accelerated out of the forecourt of their apartment block. It literally was theirs—or at least, her father’s—and they lived in the penthouse apartment. Caroline breathed a sigh of relief, feeling as if a heavy weight had just been lifted from her shoulders. She just couldn’t believe her ears when her father had made that ridiculous proposal, and it was ridiculous. But then she should have guessed, he had been very reasonable when she had told him of the end of her friendship with Anthony. She should have realised he had another applicant in mind.

For the last two years, since she had left finishing school, her father had periodically presented respectable young men for her approval, and she had just managed to shake off the most recent contender for her father’s money. But this latest development was something completely new. Greg Fortnum was anything but a youthful gold-digger.

As one of the most wealthy men in the world, he was much in demand himself, and nothing at all like the manageable young men her father had previously produced for her inspection. This was why she couldn’t understand why her father was so adamant about the two of them meeting. From what she could gather, Greg Fortnum wasn’t a ‘yes-man’, and wouldn’t meekly agree to her father’s wishes. So there must be another reason for his insistence. She only wished she knew what it was.

Another thing that puzzled her slightly was Greg Fortnum’s agreement to the idea. Even if he looked like a monster she was sure that some women would still be interested in marrying him, if only for his money. But then he didn’t look like a monster, at least, so she had heard. He was older than the crowd she usually went about with and so their paths had never crossed. But she knew he was constantly in the company of some of the most beautiful women in the world. In fact, the last she had heard of him he had been having a tempestuous affair with one of the rather more well-known actresses. So why didn’t he marry her if he needed a wife so badly? Why indeed? Yet another question she had set to puzzle herself.

She smiled impudently at the taxi-driver as she overtook him, and received a cheery smile back. She hadn’t been going away this weekend, but she would certainly make sure she did now. No one, not even her father, was going to browbeat her into marrying someone she didn’t love.

Esther was already at the table when she arrived at the restaurant for their luncheon appointment. Esther was one of her oldest friends, the two of them having met at school and continued to keep in contact even after Caroline had gone to finishing school and Esther had married John, her sober lawyer husband. With Esther being such a lighthearted girl and never taking anything seriously, and John being the exact opposite, Caroline had often wondered at the success of their marriage—and it was very successful. The two of them were just as much in love now as they had been when they first married two years earlier, in fact, probably more so.

‘Hi,’ grinned Esther, her short black curls bouncing impishly as she spoke. ‘What’s wrong?’

Caroline never ceased to be amazed at how Esther could always discern her moods without her even having to say a word. Even though she didn’t particularly feel like it she found herself smiling. ‘Daddy!’ Her voice was eloquent with meaning.

‘Oh.’ Esther had become accustomed to Caroline’s constant upsets with her father. The trouble with the two of them was that they were too much alike, although Caroline didn’t have that iron streak running through her character that made Matt Rayner so successful.

‘Mm,’ sighed Caroline, smiling gratefully at the waiter as he placed her sherry before her. ‘Daddy has another prospective husband lined up for me. The only trouble is he’s gone one step further this time. Do you know who he’s chosen for me? Greg Fortnum!’

Esther gasped. Matt had gone one step further. Whatever had possessed him to try and marry a beautiful girl like Caroline to a rake like Greg Fortnum? That man’s reputation with women was notorious. ‘But why? Why doesn’t he just let you choose your own husband?’

‘Because he thinks they’ll only be marrying me for my money—or in this case, his money. Not very flattering, is it?’

‘But I still don’t understand. Look at the last one he introduced you to—Anthony, is that right? Well he was certainly after your father’s money.’

Caroline waited until the waiter had left with their order before answering. ‘I know that, but so did Daddy. Andrew was the type of fortune-hunter Daddy could handle, the fact that I didn’t like him made no difference. He’s so terrified I’ll meet someone who he can’t control that he’s decided if I must marry it shall be someone of his choosing. But Greg Fortnum!’ she said the last with disgust, staring miserably down into her glass.

‘Quite,’ agreed Esther dryly. ‘Although he doesn’t fit the description you’ve just given me. Greg Fortnum sounds anything but manageable.’

‘I know,’ sighed Caroline. ‘That’s why I think there’s more to this than just Greg Fortnum needing a wife. Goodness, if he needed a wife that badly he has only to say so and thousands of girls would jump at the chance.’

‘Mm,’ Esther said thoughtfully. ‘But perhaps they aren’t the type of wife he would want. He would need someone who was used to entertaining people, someone beautiful and versed in all the social graces. And you have to admit you’re all of those things,’ she pointed out.

‘You’re beginning to sound like Daddy. Doesn’t love enter into his plans at all?’

‘Obviously not.’

‘I suppose he would expect me to meekly sit at home while he went out to see his mistress. Well, I don’t want that type of marriage. I want—I want a marriage like yours.’

Esther laughed, a tinkling bell-like sound that caused many male heads to turn in their direction. The two of them were totally unconcerned about the admiring glances that had been directed towards them during the last fifteen minutes, being accustomed to causing a stir wherever they went, one being so darkly beautiful and the other so fair.

‘Well, I’m pleased that you find my marriage a good example of married life, but even John and I argue at times. I think all married couples do. As for you sitting meekly at home while your husband goes out, I certainly can’t see that happening. But you’re not seriously thinking of marrying him, are you?’ She couldn’t help but sound surprised, knowing how stubborn Caroline could be when she set her mind on something.

‘Certainly not! I’ve told Daddy that he can entertain Greg Fortnum on his own this weekend, and I also told him I was going away for a couple of days. I wasn’t, but I think I may go down to the cottage for a while. Anything to avoid meeting that man.’

‘Go to the cottage in this weather?’ Esther referred to the rain outside. ‘But, Caroline, it’s probably freezing there this time of year. Why don’t you come to us instead?’

Caroline shook her head, tucking into the steak she had ordered with unconcealed relish. She might have argued with her father, but it certainly hadn’t robbed her of her appetite. ‘No, I think it would be better if I got right away from town. Thanks for the offer, though. Mmm, this steak’s good,’ she took a sip of wine. ‘The cottage will be all right once I get a fire going. I could stay for a couple of weeks if I wanted to.’

‘I think you would be better to come to us. You know we love having you and perhaps we could ask Nick to make up a foursome. John and I found a lovely new restaurant the other day, we could try that out again.’

Nick was Esther’s brother, and although Caroline liked him very much, to her he was just like the brother she had never had. She and Esther were like sisters anyway, and so it had been a natural progression. ‘No, Esther, it’s lovely of you to ask me, but I don’t want to be near enough for Daddy to find me. You understand? You’ll be the first person Daddy thinks of contacting when he starts looking for me.’

Esther nodded. ‘I suppose so. But I think you’re making a mistake. Would it do any harm for you to meet the man? That wouldn’t commit you to anything, would it?’

‘No, except it gives Daddy a certain amount of satisfaction I don’t intend him to have. I think the best thing for me to do is stay out of the way until he forgets all about marriage and Greg Fortnum. And I can work at the cottage.’ She thought with pleasure of the studio her father had converted for her from one of the bedrooms at the cottage. As there had only been three of them to start with she had thought it very generous of him—she knew how he loved his comforts. Not that he spent a lot of time at their cottage, making Caroline regard it as her personal property.

John arrived a few minutes later to take Esther shopping for the afternoon, and after a few minutes’ chatter Caroline excused herself. If she wanted to reach the cottage today she would have to leave soon. She walked gracefully out of the restaurant, a tall honey-blonde girl with the face of a perfect sculpture. It was this perfection that kept most of the men who weren’t fortune-hunters away from her, they couldn’t be kept away by anything.

She let herself quietly into the apartment, but a quick look around assured her that her father wasn’t at home. It didn’t take her long to pack the necessary clothing for a stay at the Cumbrian cottage, just a few pairs of trousers and some thick jumpers to keep out the cold. Esther was right, January wasn’t really the ideal month to go to her retreat, but after her father’s earlier determination she didn’t want to be anywhere he could reach her easily. He could be very persuasive in the right mood, and she wasn’t impervious to his charm. The cottage was the ideal place to go in the circumstances. Of course there was a telephone there, her father refused to go anywhere there wasn’t one, but if she didn’t answer it he wouldn’t know she was there.

She left him a note saying she would call him during the next few days, but that she refused to come back until Greg Fortnum was well out of the picture. She gave a nod of satisfaction and picking up the hastily packed suitcase, walked to the door. It was at just that moment the telephone began to ring. Caroline looked at it irritably; should she answer it or shouldn’t she? If it was her father she could always pretend to be Maggie, their housekeeper.

‘Yes?’ she enquired curtly, automatically reciting their telephone number.

‘Good afternoon,’ greeted a coolly clipped voice. ‘I wish to speak to Mr Rayner. Is that possible?’

‘I’m afraid not,’ Caroline replied politely. What an attractive voice this man had, although it wasn’t recognisable as anyone she knew. ‘Mr Rayner isn’t at home at the moment. Could I take a message?’

‘Certainly. Could you ask him to ring me back? Greg Fortnum is the name, he’ll know the number.’

Caroline stared with horror at the telephone, looking at it as if it had suddenly turned into a viper. Greg Fortnum! The last person she wanted to talk to!

‘Hello?’ he said sharply. ‘Are you still there?’

‘Yes—yes, I’m still here. Did you say Greg Fortnum?’

‘I did,’ he replied, obviously becoming impatient. ‘Is anything wrong?’

She could almost have laughed at this question. Anything wrong? Everything was wrong! She was calmly talking to the man who had clinically suggested marrying her! But then he didn’t know that he was actually talking to her, Caroline Rayner, he probably thought she was the maid. ‘No, sir,’ she answered demurely. ‘I’ll tell Mr Rayner you called.’

‘Thank you.’ The abrupt click at the other end of the telephone told her he had rung off.

Well! So that was the famous Greg Fortnum. A bit abrupt perhaps, but definitely an attractive voice, sort of sexy. In the right mood and setting it could probably be downright seductive. She wondered if the body fitted the voice—probably, if his reputation was anything to go by. But then she didn’t want to marry a rake, no matter how attractive he was.

Determinedly she picked up her suitcase again and walked hurriedly out of the apartment before she changed her mind, she felt a burning sense of curiosity to meet the man at the other end of that telephone conversation. But what good would it do her? If he practised the charm on her that the voice pointed to him possessing she wouldn’t stand a chance, and before she knew what was happening she would have found herself married to him. And she didn’t intend marrying anyone just so they could have an accomplished hostess to grace their home. No, she wanted to be the most important thing in the life of the man she married, not just another asset.

It was already dark by the time she pulled the car up outside the cottage, and pulling open the double garage doors she parked the car inside out of the rain. She had stopped on the way for supplies, and taking these and her case she walked over to the cottage. The key to the door was under the mat as usual and letting herself in she instantly felt the coolness of the cottage. She rubbed her already cold hands together. Thank goodness there were some dry logs beside the fireplace, it wouldn’t take long for her to warm the place up and then she could get herself some soup to warm her.

She brought the sheets down from upstairs to air them in front of the glowing fire. A good night’s sleep and she would feel better. At the moment everything seemed creepy, and though not normally a nervous girl she wished she hadn’t come here now.

Her bedroom was quite warm from the fire she had burning in the small fireplace, but still she couldn’t sleep. She had been here on her own before, but usually it had been in the summer months when the nights were lighter. She shivered as she heard yet another strange noise outside.

It was no good, she would never get to sleep. She sat up suddenly. There was that noise again, and it sounded like a car door slamming. What was a car doing here? This was the only cottage in the area, which could only mean that whoever was in that car was coming here. Could it be burglars? But there was nothing here to steal. But they didn’t know that!

She crept quietly out of bed, peeping out of the curtains to the driveway below. Sure enough, parked there was a strange car, its sleek lines clearly visible in the moonlight. Her attention was caught and held by the shadowy figure walking around the car and delving into the boot. She ducked back behind the curtains as the sleek head looked up at the cottage. Had he seen her? She chanced another quick look between the curtains. The intruder seemed intent on the contents of the boot again. Well, it was no good cowering here, the telephone was downstairs, she would have to try and call for help.

The stairs creaked noisily as she crept down their winding length. Funny, she had never noticed they did that before. She only hoped the man outside hadn’t heard it too.

She was half way across the hallway to the telephone when the door was flung open and the light switched on. Caroline blinked dazedly at this sudden light, wrapping her almost transparent nightdress around her slender body. The man standing silhouetted in the doorway didn’t look at all pleased to see her either; his tanned arrogant face was creased in disapproving lines.

Caroline felt herself bridling with anger even in the face of danger. Who was this man to look down his haughty nose at her as if she were the intruder? She pulled herself up to her full height, looking coldly at the stranger.

The man moved forward into the light, his black hair shining like a raven’s wing, and the green eyes set like twin emeralds in his mahogany tanned face appraised her from head to toe. He was a tall man, well over six foot, and although he had a lean frame Caroline could see it was pure ripcord muscle. The trousers he wore clung to the length of his thighs, and the thick creamy sweater disguised none of the power beneath.

‘Well?’ he queried softly. ‘The maid, I presume?’

Caroline glared angrily at his sardonic face, resenting his scrutiny. ‘Certainly not!’ she said coldly. ‘Who are you?’ He didn’t look like a burglar, that was for sure.

He put down the case he had been carrying, casually taking out a gold cigarette case and lighting the cigarette he had extracted with a matching gold lighter. ‘Who I am isn’t really important. It’s who you are that matters, although from the way you’re acting I would say you’re one of the snooty daughter’s friends. Am I right?’

‘Snooty daughter?’ she repeated sharply. ‘What snooty daughter?’

The man came even further into the room, closing the door and moving with a cat-like grace to stand before the now dying fire in the lounge. ‘Matt’s snooty daughter. Cynthia, Catherine, whatever her name is.’

‘Oh,’ Caroline said dully. Snooty? Was she really? ‘Yes, I suppose you could call me a friend of hers. But who are you?’

He continued to smoke his cigarette, his eyes narrowed. ‘Much as I like the sight of your near-naked body I think you should go put some more clothes on if we’re to continue this conversation. It may not bother you to be seen like that, but I don’t usually carry out conversations with half-naked females.’

‘Really?’ Caroline said tartly, resenting his criticism of her. ‘You surprise me.’

Those green eyes mocked her. ‘Only females of my own choice,’ he amended. ‘And you certainly aren’t that.’

She gave him a flinty look before turning on her heel and marching furiously out of the room. What an insulting man! And who was he, he hadn’t told her that yet. Obviously an acquaintance of her father’s, but who, that was the question? And how dared he call her snooty when he didn’t even know her right name! Cynthia or Catherine! What a cheek! Well, she certainly wasn’t going to tell him who she was, not after that description of her.

When she came downstairs again five minutes later, dressed in levi’s and a thick green sweater, it was to find a steaming mug of coffee waiting for her.

‘Help yourself to sugar,’ he invited, drinking his own coffee with obvious pleasure. He put down the half-empty mug. ‘Now, would you mind telling me what you’re doing here?’

‘Would I?’ she demanded. ‘What about you?’

‘I happen to have been given permission to come here,’ he informed her haughtily. ‘And you?’

‘Isn’t it obvious? My—my friend gave me permission to use this cottage too. It has a studio, you see.’

‘A studio? What sort of studio?’

‘The type you paint in,’ she told him sarcastically.

‘Oh, I see.’ The contempt couldn’t be missed in his voice and her resentment towards him grew.

‘Who are you?’ she asked angrily.

He showed his dislike of her tone by the faint lift of his arrogant eyebrows. ‘My name is André—André Gregory.’

‘André? You don’t look French. It is French, isn’t it?’

‘Mmm. And I’m half French, on my mother’s side. And your name?’

‘Caroline…’ she hesitated. ‘Caroline Rawlings.’ Why had she lied? It would serve him right if he felt uncomfortable when she told him her name, although she had the feeling it wouldn’t bother him one way or the other. He seemed equally unconcerned that they had both come to stay here on the same night. He was the type of man that would be in control whatever the situation. She looked up to find him also looking at her, his face becoming a shuttered mask under her questioning gaze.

‘So, Miss Rawlings,’ he drawled her name, ‘it appears that we both have the intention of staying here for the night. I could of course be a gentleman and say that I’ll leave, but as good manners have never been one of my finer attributes, I have no intention of doing any such thing. Of course I only have your word that you are a friend of Matt’s daughter—you could be an intruder for all I know.’

‘But so could you,’ she pointed out reasonably.

‘Hardly likely. I happen to know the name of the owner.’

She thought for a moment. ‘But if I were an intruder I wouldn’t know if that were his name anyway. I would have to take your word for that.’

Reluctantly he smiled, showing firm even white teeth between his well-shaped lips. ‘I see your point. Okay, we’ll accept that we both have permission to stay here. The trouble is what are we going to do about it?’

‘I’m not going to do anything. I was here first, so I think you should be the one to leave.’

‘Why should either of us leave?’ André Gregory asked calmly. ‘There are two bedrooms, aren’t there? Surely in this permissive day and age you aren’t afraid to share a cottage with a member of the opposite sex?’

His tone could only be described as taunting, and Caroline blushed. ‘I don’t happen to belong to the permissive society.’ And she didn’t, hard as the pressure from some of her friends had been. Most of the men in her set thought she was frigid, although that didn’t stop them trying to get her to sleep with them. Daddy’s money again, she thought dryly. She didn’t seem to realise that she was beautiful enough for any man to find attractive, her elusiveness making her even more so.

‘You surprise me. Especially as you’re a friend of little Miss Rich Rayner.’

‘I beg your pardon!’ She glared at him crossly.

‘You heard me. That little girl is no better than she ought to be from what I’ve heard, and if you mix with the same crowd she does and are as innocent as you say you are I’ll be very much surprised.’

She stood up, her bearing almost regal in her anger. ‘It may surprise you to know this too, Mr Gregory, but whether you believe what I’ve told you isn’t of paramount importance to me. As long as I have my self-respect that’s all that matters to me.’

She saw grudging respect enter those deep green eyes before it was quickly veiled and replaced with a taunting smile. ‘All right. So which bedroom do I use?’

‘If you intend staying you’ll have to use the one to the right at the top of the stairs—I’m in the one to the left, so you can’t use that one.’

He grinned. ‘I could—but I won’t. So,’ he stood up, ‘I’ll use the one to the right. I trust that meets with your approval?’

‘Would it matter if it didn’t?’ she said resentfully.

‘No, your approval isn’t important to me,’ he ran a tired hand through his thick vibrant hair. ‘I hope your story stands up, young lady, because if it doesn’t you’ll be out of here so fast your feet won’t touch the ground.’

Caroline’s eyes sparkled angrily. ‘And just how do you propose to ascertain whether I’m lying or not?’

André Gregory smiled mockingly. ‘Have you never heard of the telephone? I presume you have no objection to my using it?’

She shrugged her shoulders, thinking how ridiculous all this was anyway. Why didn’t she just tell him who she was and ask him to leave, instead of continuing this pointless deception? If he hadn’t been so condescending about her she would have never started this in the first place. ‘Who am I to object?’ she answered his question.

‘Quite,’ he said dryly, picking up the case he had deposited on the floor on entering the cottage. ‘Now I’ll wish you a goodnight—or should I say good morning.’

Caroline looked amazed at his calmness. ‘You surely aren’t going to go on with this farce? Look, it isn’t that late,’ she said desperately. ‘You could stay at a hotel, there’s a small one in the village.’

‘Then why don’t you use it? Because I’m certainly not going to. For heaven’s sake, girl,’ he snapped suddenly, regarding her through half-closed eyes, ‘I’m not proposing to share your bed, only the accommodation. Or is that what’s upset you? The fact that I haven’t made a move to get you into bed with me?’

She flushed with heated anger. ‘Some women might find your outrageous behaviour fascinating, Mr Gregory, but I simply find it disgusting!’ She flicked her head back haughtily, meeting head on the angry sparkle in the eyes of this man she had only known for an hour. An hour too long in her opinion! ‘And as you insist on staying here you’ll need some bed linen. I presume you have no idea where it is?’

André Gregory regarded her through narrowed eyes, lingering insolently on the soft curves of her young body as if assessing what lay beneath her warm clothing. She resisted an impulse to put up a shielding hand, and saw the cynical twist of his mouth deepen as though he had guessed her thoughts. ‘You’re right, I don’t. But I’m sure if you leave me long enough I’ll find it. After all, there can’t be many places to keep bed linen in a place this size.’

‘It happens to be in the bedroom I’m using,’ she snapped. ‘And I’m certainly not having you barging in there when you finally realise that’s where it is.’

‘Why not?’ he returned softly. ‘It might be fun.’

Caroline’s mouth tightened. ‘Not for me it wouldn’t.’ She stood up. ‘Now if you would like to come upstairs, I’ll show you your room, and then perhaps I can get some sleep.’

‘I wouldn’t count on it. I plan to have a shower before going to bed, I’m sticky from driving so long,’ he explained.

‘Are you usually this inconsiderate, or am I the exception?’ she demanded tartly. ‘You have already frightened me half to death by turning up here in the middle of the night, accused me of being an intruder, and now you propose to keep me awake even longer by having a shower. You really are the limit!’ she finished with disgust.

‘Miss Rawlings—if that really is your name,’ he saw her blush and raised a mocking eyebrow, ‘which I very much doubt,’ he added dryly. ‘You appeared to be anything but frightened when I arrived, furious is more the word I would choose. And I didn’t accuse you of being an intruder, I merely said you could be, there is a slight difference,’ he shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘As for the shower, I have every intention of taking that with or without your approval. If it disturbs you, I’m sorry. But I’m going to take one, of that you can be assured.’

Caroline didn’t bother to answer him, recognising an obstinacy such as her own. And she knew she wouldn’t have given in either. She opened the door that led out to the stairs, conscious of his firm even tread behind her. The bedroom she showed him into was the one her father usually occupied on the rare occasions he came with her. It was blue and white in decor, the fitted carpet blue, with blue and white and small touches of black in the wallpaper.

André Gregory looked around him appreciatively, placing his case on the ottoman at the foot of the double bed that dominated the room. ‘Very nice. Your friend must have good taste in furnishings, if of course she chose the decor.’

‘Of course she did,’ snapped Caroline, standing nervously just inside the doorway. ‘She’s very artistic’

‘Hence the studio?’

‘Hence the studio,’ she agreed. ‘The bathroom is the room next to yours. I realise you’re probably accustomed to having your own bathroom but as there only happens to be the one I’m afraid we’ll have to share.’

‘And if I choose to walk around naked?’ he taunted.

‘That’s up to you, of course,’ she said coldly. ‘But I would prefer you to curb these instincts if possible. I’m afraid I’m not used to seeing strange men walking about without their clothing.’

‘Only men you know, hmm?’

‘Don’t be crude! You’re very insulting, Mr Gregory. If you would prefer it I’ll put the statement another way, I’m not used to seeing any man without his clothing. Does that satisfy you?’

He grinned. ‘The name is André, and as I have every intention of calling you Caroline I would suggest you use it. As for satisfying me, only the best does that, I’m afraid.’

Caroline hadn’t missed the intimate undertones beneath his words, and she realised how precarious her position was as she stood just inside his bedroom. ‘I’ll—um—I’ll just get the bed linen.’

‘You do that,’ he laughed, shedding his jacket and beginning to peel off his thick sweater.

She fled before he took off anything else, like his trousers. She sorted through the linen cupboard, collecting sheets and blankets, but taking her time over it. She had no desire to find him in the state he had earlier described, although she felt certain he wouldn’t feel in the least embarrassed if she did.

She tapped lightly on his bedroom door but receiving no answer decided he must already be in the bathroom. His clothes were scattered on the bare mattress, and picking them up she folded them neatly and placed them on the bedroom chair. It didn’t take her long to make up the bed and she was just putting the finishing touches to the bedspread when he came back into the room.

She turned around quickly as she heard the door open, her face apprehensive. But she needn’t have worried, he was clothed quite adequately in a thick white towelling robe, his dark hair gleaming damply. Caroline stood up from her task, rubbing her hands nervously over her slim hips, and unconsciously drawing attention to herself. ‘I’ve—er—I’ve made up your bed,’ she told him needlessly.

The green eyes mocked her. ‘I can see that. And as you can see, as a concession to your supposed modesty, I’m wearing this robe,’ he threw the damp towel on to the chair on top of his clothes. ‘Was there something else?’

‘No—no, of course not.’ She snatched the towel off the clothing. ‘You’ll ruin these doing that. I’ll put the towel on the radiator in the bathroom to dry.’

‘Thank you,’ his voice taunted.

‘Right. Well, I’ll—I’ll go to bed now. Goodnight,’ and she hurriedly made her escape, conscious of his mocking laughter behind her.

She found it even more difficult to settle down to sleep with the knowledge that André Gregory was in the room opposite her own. She could hear him moving about and wondered what he could possibly be doing now. Strangely enough, although she resented his presence, she also felt comforted to know he was there. She must telephone her father in the morning and ask about this friend of his, and perhaps warn him to back up her story when André Gregory called him.




CHAPTER TWO (#u5074b75c-0a51-585b-b09d-91868c494543)


CAROLINE awoke to thin watery daylight filtering through her lemon curtains. She blinked rapidly. Whatever time was it? She glanced quickly at her wrist-watch, jumping hurriedly out of bed as she saw it was already eight-thirty. If she didn’t call her father within the next fifteen minutes he would have left for the office. She grabbed her housecoat off the back of the door and rushed out to the bathroom, only to find the door firmly locked against her.

She rattled the door handle frustratedly. ‘Are you in there, Mr Gregory?’ she demanded crossly.

‘I would have thought that was obvious, Miss Rawlings. So if you wouldn’t mind going back to your room until I’ve finished shaving?’ his deep voice sounded from the other side of the door.

‘I most certainly do mind! You’ve had more than your fair share of time in the bathroom, and I’m going to wait right here until you decide to vacate it,’ she told him stubbornly.

‘Okay, please yourself. But I think I should warn you that I didn’t bother with the robe today. I didn’t think it was necessary as you appeared to be fast asleep.’

Caroline blushed hotly, feeling herself forced to return to her room. He knew very well that she wouldn’t wait here until he came out of the bathroom, naked. ‘All right,’ she admitted defeat. ‘I’ll just go downstairs and put the kettle on,’ and telephone Daddy, she could have added, but didn’t.

‘Quite domesticated, aren’t you,’ he taunted.

She didn’t deign to answer him, running quickly down the stairs, her housecoat flapping aside as she ran. Thank heaven she would have this chance to speak to her father privately before that man came downstairs. The telephone rang five or six times and Caroline wondered if anyone was going to answer when suddenly the telephone was picked up and her home number related to her gruffly.

She held the telephone close against her ear. ‘Daddy?’ she whispered questioningly.

‘Caroline?’ he queried sharply. ‘Is that you, Caroline?’

She chuckled softly. ‘Well, I hope so,’ she teased. ‘Who else do you know who calls you Daddy?’

‘Where are you?’ he demanded without preamble. She could imagine the anger on his face, he hated to be thwarted, and she had certainly done that by running out on him and his guest.

Caroline hesitated. ‘I’m—er—I’m at the cottage.’

‘You’re what!’ he exploded. ‘What the hell are you doing there on your own this time of year? You know you aren’t strong enough to chop wood and carry in the coal, and it’s damn freezing there now.’

‘I didn’t need to chop wood and carry in coal,’ she told him calmly, ‘there was some already in the cottage. But as it happens, I’m not here alone, I have a man here who can do all that for me.’ She grinned wickedly to herself as she imagined his anger.

‘You have a what! What are you doing there with a man? You’ve always told me that sort of thing wasn’t your scene, and now you calmly announce to your own father that you’re staying alone in a secluded cottage with a boy-friend!’ he predictably lost his temper.

‘Calm down, Daddy,’ she chuckled. ‘You misunderstood what I said, I didn’t say he was a boy-friend, merely that he was a man.’

‘Same thing,’ he cut in. ‘I will not allow—–’

‘Daddy! Will you let me finish. The man staying here is called André Gregory, and he says he’s a friend of yours’.’

‘Gregory? André—–? André! Oh God,’ he sighed deeply. ‘Did he arrive late last night?’

‘So late it could almost have been this morning. But how did you know?’

‘Because I told him he could use the cottage for as long as he liked. At the time I didn’t realise you were going to walk out on me in a childish temper and take up residence. You’ll have to come home, of course.’

‘I will not! Why should I! This is my cottage, you’ve always said so. And I did not walk out on you in a childish temper,’ she said with disgust. ‘You forced me to leave by inviting that man to stay for the weekend.’

‘Yes, well, as Greg couldn’t make it you can come home now.’

‘What do you mean he couldn’t make it?’ Caroline almost laughed. ‘Do you mean to tell me that after all that sales talk you did on his behalf he didn’t even bother to show up?’ she couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. ‘Oh, Daddy,’ she chuckled, ‘that’s really funny!’

‘Hmp. I’m glad you seem to think so. So now you’ll come home?’

She shook her head, suddenly realising he couldn’t see her. ‘No, I’m not coming home. I came down to the cottage to stay for a while, and I intend doing just that. Do you have any objections?’

‘Plenty,’ he said impatiently. ‘But I don’t have the time to tell you all of them right now. I have to get to the office, but I’ll call you from there, okay?’

‘Okay,’ she agreed. ‘But, Daddy—if Mr Gregory picks up the telephone don’t ask for your daughter, just ask for Caroline. All right?’

‘Now listen to me, young lady, I don’t know what’s going on there, but I want you home here by the time I return this evening,’ she heard him mumbling to himself. ‘Do you hear me, Caroline? I’m ordering you to get yourself home. Understood?’

‘I understand you,’ she agreed calmly. ‘But I’m not going to do as you say. I have a perfect right to be here.’

‘Must I remind you that the cottage belongs to me and I have invited a friend of mine to make use of the facilities there? And you’re not one of them.’

‘You’re damn right I’m not! But if this man is a friend of yours surely you trust him not to make a move like that?’

‘Caroline, you’ve met André, and you should have realised by now that I wouldn’t trust him with any woman, let alone my own daughter. He has a very potent effect on women, and although you profess to be indifferent to his charm I know it wouldn’t be long before you succumbed like most other women do. Am I right?’

‘No, you’re not,’ she denied adamantly. ‘I’ve yet to meet the man who could affect me like that, and from what I’ve seen of Mr Gregory he certainly isn’t the man to do it. He’s egotistical, pompous, and—–’ she broke off as she heard a chuckle from behind her and swinging round she saw the man she had just been describing leaning casually against the door jamb watching her. How long had he been standing there? The words screamed into her brain as she clutched frantically at her open housecoat.

André Gregory moved forward with a feline grace she found unnerving, his mocking eyes never leaving her face. ‘Don’t mind me, Miss Rawlings, you just carry on with your conversation. So far I’ve found it very enlightening.’ He sat down opposite her, toasting his bare feet before the crackling fire.

Strange, she hadn’t noticed that the fire had been lit when she came down. André Gregory must have been downstairs before her and lit it.

‘Caroline? Caroline!’ her father’s voice crackled angrily down the line. ‘Caroline, what’s going on there?’

‘Well—er—–’ she hesitated, conscious of the man sitting in the room with her. ‘I’m sorry your daughter isn’t there, Mr Rayner, but I really would like to talk to Cynthia some time today. Could you ask her to call me back?’

‘Cynthia? Mr Rayner—–?’ Her father’s puzzlement sounded quite clearly down the telephone. ‘What the hell is going on there now? Why are you—–Oh, I get it. André just walked in, right?’

‘Right,’ she agreed with relief. ‘So if you could pass on the message to her I would be very grateful.’

‘All right, I’ll call you later and then we can sort this thing out.’

Caroline looked up as André Gregory came to stand beside her, his hand outstretched for the receiver. ‘I would like a word with Matt if you don’t mind.’

‘Oh—oh yes, of course. Mr Gregory would like a few words with you, Mr Rayner.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back in the hope that her father wouldn’t give her away. She handed the receiver into that slim tanned hand, careful not to come into contact with him.

He looked at her pointedly. ‘This is a private conversation,’ he said bluntly.

Caroline’s eyes sparkled angrily. ‘I didn’t notice that I received privacy while I was on the telephone. You made no secret of the fact that you were listening.’

‘I didn’t notice you asking me to leave,’ he said patiently. ‘Now would you mind?’

Put like that she had no other choice. She glared at him resentfully before doing as he asked, slamming the door loudly behind her. A quick look in the open doorway of his bedroom confirmed her suspicion that he hadn’t made his bed, probably because he had no idea how to. She straightened the sheets before tidying the scattered blankets. He seemed to be a rough sleeper, all the bedclothes were pulled out and it took her quite a few minutes to get them in order again.

‘As one of Matt’s daughter’s friends I wouldn’t have thought you capable of doing anything as mundane as making beds, but I’ve been proved wrong, you’ve done it twice now,’ remarked the cynical voice that was slowly beginning to annoy her.

‘Well, as you don’t seem to be capable…’ she trailed off, having successfully made her point.

‘Oh, I’m capable.’ He moved forward dangerously. ‘Very capable, as I’m sure some of my—friends would confirm.’

‘I’m not interested in your—in your sex life.’ Caroline moved away from him. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me?’

André Gregory moved back to his former position, effectively blocking off her exit. He looked down at her defiant chin, a slight grin on his rugged features. ‘I didn’t realise I was talking about my—sex life,’ he paused as she had done, a purely mocking gesture, ‘but since we’re on the subject, just which one of the Rayner family are you a friend of?’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she demanded icily.

His eyes flickered over her contemptuously. ‘What do you think I mean? Matt was singing your praises a few moments ago, with no mention of his daughter. Also he warned me off you, which in my estimation can only mean one thing. What I would like to know is what does the snooty daughter think of your friendship, if she knows about it, of course?’

Caroline couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stared at him in horror. ‘How can you stand there and say something like that about a man you claim is a friend of yours? If—Mr Rayner has friends like you he certainly doesn’t need any enemies!’

His smile deepened with sarcasm. ‘Come on, girl! Matt may be a friend of mine, but he’s also a man, with a man’s appetites.’ He studied her appraisingly. ‘And you’re not bad to look at.’

‘Thanks for nothing!’ she snapped, intending to sweep past him but finding herself held in a vice-like grip. ‘Will you let go of my arm!’

His other hand came round to push up her chin, and it wasn’t a gentle gesture. ‘If I tell you that you’re unusually beautiful, will you calm down?’

She pushed his hand away. ‘No, I won’t! You see, I’m not susceptible to charmers like you. And after all the insults you’ve directed at—Mr Rayner and myself, I don’t see why I should bother to speak to you at all. Mr Rayner is a highly respected business man, and quite old enough to be my father.’

‘So am I—just. If I had a very misspent youth—which I probably did. But my own feelings towards you are anything but fatherly. You aren’t the type of girl to bring out those sort of instincts in a man—far from it. Especially dressed as you are now. Are you aware of the fact that on the two occasions we’ve met you’ve been dressed in a shimmering nightdress and a not very substantial wrap respectively, hardly the right attire to inspire mere friendship.’

‘I don’t happen to want your friendship,’ Caroline told him haughtily. ‘And as my clothing is so offensive to you I’ll go and dress.’

‘Oh, your clothing doesn’t offend me, on the contrary, I find it very—stimulating. But as I’ve had the warning off signal from Matt I don’t want to poach on another man’s preserve.’

‘I’m not any man’s preserve,’ she snapped angrily. ‘Especially not Mr Rayner’s. Now get out of my way!’

His hand tightened about her wrist and she winced with the pain. ‘Naughty, naughty, Caroline. Now say you’re sorry for being rude to me.’

‘I will not! Why should I?’

He raised his eyes heavenward as if losing patience with her. ‘Why indeed?’ he humoured before his face hardened and his eyes became like glittering emeralds. ‘Because I just said you should! One thing I cannot abide is rude little girls like yourself who should have had a few more beatings when they were younger, their parents leaving the task of taming them to the poor unsuspecting fool who marries them.’

‘Do you speak from experience, Mr Gregory?’

He laughed harshly. ‘Not exactly. I haven’t yet been stupid enough to get caught in that trap. But I’ve seen enough of my friends’ wives to know what I’m talking about.’

‘I’m sure you have,’ Caroline agreed bitchily. ‘From close quarters, no doubt?’

‘Very close quarters in some cases, but then I’m sure you’d already guessed that.’ He released her hand, unbalancing her with the suddenness of the movement. Caroline reached out to stop herself falling, and found herself held rigidly against this man’s warm body, his breath lightly fanning her hair.

She struggled in his arms. ‘Let go of me,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Take your—your hands off me!’

André Gregory let her go immediately, pushing her casually away from him. ‘I think I’m beginning to believe you when you say you aren’t Mart’s girl-griend—and I say girl-friend with the full meaning of the word. You can’t bear for a man to touch you, can you? Or is it only me you have this aversion to?’

She held herself stiffly, her blonde hair falling untidily about her shoulders. ‘I would like to say it’s only you, Mr Gregory, but I’m afraid it isn’t. I have yet to find the man who can raise me to the heights of passion or put me in the depths of despair—if such feelings exist, which I doubt.’

André Gregory’s attention seemed to be fixed on the ornaments on the dressing-table, as he picked up first one object and then another. ‘I think you could be right,’ he agreed, not bothering to look at her. ‘Oh, the heights of passion exist all right, but the depths of despair have so far eluded me. Possibly because so far, like you, I have no wish to give one single person the power to make my life either happy or sad for me.’

‘But then even in that we differ. You see, you don’t have one person in your life, but several, whereas I don’t have any.’

‘Don’t you believe in the old saying “safety in numbers"?’

She shook her head. ‘Not for me. Now I really do have to go and dress.’

‘As I recall, you haven’t apologised yet,’ he reminded her softly.

‘No, and I’m not going to.’

‘Oh, but you are.’ Steely fingers gripped her arm once again. ‘And right now. Go on, say you’re sorry like a good girl.’

Caroline’s eyes glittered resentfully. How dared he! Just who did he think he was! The impulse to tell him who she was was strong, but she resisted. He hadn’t been insulting enough yet to be intimidated by the knowledge that she was Matt Rayner’s daughter, and not his—not his girl-friend. Her temper kindled anew at this slight on her father’s conduct. Just because this man didn’t care who he made love to it didn’t mean her father was the same. ‘I have nothing to apologise for, you were obstructing my exit and I asked you to move.’

His teeth gleamed whitely as he grinned at her. ‘You didn’t ask me to do anything, young lady, you gave me an order. And I don’t like orders, especially from women. I’m still waiting,’ he said patiently.

‘Well, you can go on waiting,’ she fumed at him. ‘Because I’m never going to apologise to you—I repeat, never!’

André Gregory continued to look down at her, his expression just as unyielding as her own. ‘There was no need to repeat it, Caroline, I heard you the first time. But you will apologise,’ he looked about them pointedly, finally resting his steely gaze back on her flushed face. ‘You’re hardly in a position to argue. Must I remind you of your surroundings, and your dress—or in this case, undress? I could so easily take advantage of this situation—but I’m sure you wouldn’t like me to do that.’

‘You wouldn’t dare!’ she challenged.

‘Wouldn’t I? Well, perhaps you’re right. Matt’s a friend of mine, and you’re—–’

‘His preserve,’ Caroline cut in tautly. ‘But I’m not, Mr Gregory. Oh, all right,’ she sighed. ‘If it inflates your male ego to force a defenceless girl to apologise—I apologise. Satisfied?’

He released her arm. ‘For a moment there I thought you were going to admit your relationship with Matt, but perhaps you’re not the sort of girl to go around boasting of your conquests.’

‘Conquests!’ she scoffed, rubbing her bruised wrist where he had held her so tightly. ‘You call being the mistress of a middle-aged tycoon a conquest? I wouldn’t! I’d call it—–’

‘I think I can guess what you would call it, Little Miss Puritan. Where’s the harm in bringing a little happiness into someone’s life? Or do you also object to that? God, what a little prude you are! And what a curious combination, prudishness and promiscuity.’

‘Promiscuity? But I’m not—–’

‘Not you, Caroline, Cynthia or whatever her name is. Do you lecture her too?’

Caroline turned away. ‘She happens to be a friend of mine, and I speak with full authority when I say she is not promiscuous. Far from it, in fact.’

‘So the stories I’ve heard are unfounded, are they?’

She resented his taunting tone, shaking her long hair back haughtily. ‘As I have no idea what these stories are I can’t really say, but I would advise you not to listen to idle gossip, Mr Gregory. I would have thought you of all people would have known that what people don’t know they think they know, or simply make it up.’

‘Me of all people? Oh, I see—you mean someone of my tendencies, my friends’ wives and so forth? Mmm, well, in some cases perhaps what you say is true, but I happen to have received my information on good authority.

‘And what authority is that?’ she asked sharply.

‘Now that would be telling,’ he replied, infuriatingly calm, appraising her appearance once again. ‘And if you don’t go and dress in a moment I may take your reluctance to leave my bedroom as an invitation—and I may just accept.’

‘Don’t excite yourself, Mr Gregory, I wouldn’t invite you anywhere, let alone into my bed!’ and she made her escape before he decided to make her apologise for that remark too, locking herself safely in the bathroom. She leaned heavily on the door, listening for his movements. To her chagrin he was merrily whistling to himself as he went down the stairs. Did nothing ruffle that smooth surface charm he chose to emit? Well, she would do her hardest to find out. Mr André Gregory needed taking down a peg or two, and she was just the person to do it.

She could smell bacon cooking as she walked gracefully down the stairs—her bacon, no doubt. Really, that man had a nerve! ‘Hi,’ she smiled happily at him as she sat down at the kitchen table, showing none of the seething emotions that existed underneath. ‘Are you cooking enough for me?’

If he was surprised by her change of attitude he didn’t show it, but gave her a cursory glance before carrying on with his frying. ‘If you want some,’ he said noncommittally.

‘Thanks.’ Caroline leant her chin on her hands, her blue eyes full of mischief if he bothered to look at her, which he didn’t. ‘Country air always makes me ravenous, doesn’t it you?’

‘I suppose so,’ he agreed quietly. ‘I’m not usually in the country long enough to find out one way or the other.’ He turned to face her. ‘So—when are you leaving?’

Caroline’s pleasant manner almost deserted her at his audacity, but she managed to remain cool. ‘Leaving?’ she repeated. ‘Oh, I’m not leaving,’ she told him sweetly. ‘As you so rightly said last night, there are two bedrooms and I won’t bother you if you don’t bother me.’

He studied her for a moment, the expression in his green eyes unreadable. ‘Are you quite serious?’

‘Quite,’ she mocked. ‘Why not? It could work out very well if we let it.’

‘Caroline, I came here for peace and quiet. I’m hardly likely to get that with you walking about half undressed most of the time and in very revealing tight jumpers and denims at other times. Hardly conducive to a peaceful existence, hmm?’

‘Are you saying you find me attractive, Mr Gregory?’

‘No, I didn’t say that, not you especially. It would be impossible for any man not to be slightly disturbed by your appearance.’ He placed a laden breakfast plate before her. ‘So I repeat—when are you leaving?’

She tucked enthusiastically into the crisp bacon and perfectly fried egg. ‘And I repeat—I’m not. Look, Mr Gregory—André,’ she saw his start of surprise and the narrowing of those sea-green eyes, and smiled slightly to herself. ‘I’ll be in the studio most of the time, so you can do—whatever it is you want to do, down here. Surely that’s a perfectly feasible idea?’

‘Oh, it’s feasible all right, it’s just that I’m not agreeable to it. I came here to get away from—charming females like yourself, not to set up home with one. Anyway, why the sudden change of heart? A few moments ago you couldn’t wait to get rid of me.’

‘I’ve been thinking while I was upstairs, and I decided that there was no need for this unpleasantness. This cottage is big enough for two people—just, and we needn’t interfere with each other in any way.’

‘And what do you think Matt will say to that?’ he queried.

‘I’ve already told him. Ah, that surprises you, doesn’t it? Yes, I told—Matt, that I was staying on here, just as you probably told him you were. He wasn’t very happy about the arrangement, but he’ll come round.’

His mouth twisted. ‘Oh, I’m sure he will. You have your own little ways of getting to him, I suppose. Oh, eat your breakfast, and we’ll talk about it later,’ he added impatiently.

Caroline did as she was told, enjoying the meal he had cooked for her. Let him try and puzzle out her change of attitude for himself. She had deliberately chosen to wear a blue jumper that exactly matched the colour of her eyes and showed off her long blonde hair to advantage, intending to disconcert him. And she had succeeded! Well, watch out, André Gregory, because it had only just started. Before she had finished she would get him so intrigued by her behaviour that he would wonder what had hit him. And then would come the let-down. Oh yes, Mr Conceited Gregory, you’re time has come, she vowed silently.

She settled down in the studio to do some preliminary drawings. It was a long time since she had been to the cottage and she always found she could relax and paint better here than anywhere else. But this morning she seemed to be having some trouble settling down to any serious work, and put that down to the fact that she could hear André Gregory moving about downstairs. She wondered what he could possibly be doing. Finally, when she thought she could stand it no longer, he called up the stairs to her.

‘Caroline! Caroline, Matt’s on the telephone for you.’

She put down her equipment and rushed to the studio door. ‘Did you say Matt?’ she asked breathlessly.

He stood at the bottom of the stairs looking up at her. ‘I did, and I think it’s quite urgent.’

‘Oh, okay. Can you put the call through up here? Just press the switch on the side of the telephone,’ she explained.

‘Do you have any objection to speaking to him in front of me?’ his eyes taunted.

‘Certainly I do. My conversation with Mr Rayner is private.’

‘I see. And you still maintain there’s nothing between the two of you.’ His smile was frankly mocking as he moved out of her line of vision.

Caroline was tempted to flounce down the stairs and give him a piece of her mind, but was prevented from doing so by the buzzing of the telephone behind her. Bother the man! She snatched up the receiver, her mouth set in a mutinous line. It was going to be much more difficult to be pleasant to André Gregory than she had imagined. ‘Yes?’ she said sharply.

‘Caroline?’ her father’s gruff voice enquired. ‘Has something upset you?’

She laughed softly at his understatement. ‘Only your arrogant friend, nothing I can’t handle.’

Now it was his turn to laugh. ‘If you believe that, Caroline, then you certainly don’t know André very well. Some of the most self-assured women in the world have tried to manage him, and failed. I can’t see that you’ll succeed where so many others have failed.’

‘I’m not intending to marry the man, Daddy, just teach him a lesson he’s badly in need of.’

‘Caroline, you just don’t understand, or you don’t want to understand. André is not the man to try tricks like this on. And why did I have to just ask for Caroline and not for my daughter?’

‘Because for the moment that is the one thing I’m not, although according to your friend I’m plenty of other things.’

‘Like what?’

She bit her lip thoughtfully. ‘I know—your mistress, for one thing.’

‘My what!’

She laughed at his astonishment. ‘Your mistress,’ she repeated. ‘Besides being a member of the permissive society.’

‘Damn cheek of the man!’ came the mumbled reply.

‘Oh, come off it, Daddy, wouldn’t you think the same in the circumstances?’

‘No, I wouldn’t.’

‘Daddy!’

‘Well… perhaps. But he has a nerve suggesting something like that. What does he think I am, a cradle-snatcher?’

‘There isn’t that much difference between your age and Greg Fortnum’s, and you thought we would be well suited,’ she pointed out reasonably. ‘Anyway, he said I shouldn’t be ashamed of bringing a little happiness into someone’s life, your life.’

‘Big of him!’

‘That’s what I thought. So I’m going to pay him back for it. By the time I’ve finished with him he may not have quite such an inflated ego,’ she said with relish.

‘Caroline, I wouldn’t advise—–’

‘Don’t worry, Daddy. I’ll leave before things get too hot, but I really do think your pushy friend needs his ego knocked down a bit.’

‘Well, all right, if that’s what you want to do, but it’s against my advice. And if it gets out to the press that you’re living out in the wilds with André Gregory your reputation will be in shreds.’

‘It won’t get out, there’s no reason why it should.’

‘I suppose not,’ he mumbled. ‘But I want you to keep in touch with me.’

‘Of course I will, but not too often. How can I play the seductress if he thinks I’m involved with you?’

‘Play the seductress?’ he queried sharply. ‘Now, Caroline, that isn’t a good idea.’

‘Why not? I can assure you that there’s absolutely no risk of my actually falling for him. He’s just an arrogant, bossy prig. And I’m going to bring him to his knees!’

She heard her father laugh. ‘I wish you luck,’ he chuckled before ringing off.

Caroline stared at the telephone for a moment before gently replacing it back on its stand. Her father hadn’t taken her plans too badly under the circumstances, and she was looking forward to teaching André Gregory a lesson. But she had to go carefully or he would become suspicious. But there was no time like the present to start her plan.

The man so much in her thoughts of late was sitting back comfortably in an armchair before the warm fire, his bare feet roasting, in front of the flames. A cigar burnt slowly between his slender fingers and his attention seemed to be wholly on the book he was reading.

She sat impishly before him on the carpet, instantly feeling the heat of the fire. ‘Is it good?’ she asked huskily.

The book slowly lowered and a pair of deceptively sleepy green eyes looked at her over its top. ‘Very good,’ he replied shortly.

‘I’ve read quite a lot of Alistair Maclean books myself. But I haven’t read that one,’ she tried to draw him into conversation.

‘You can have it when I’ve finished it. Perhaps it will keep you out of trouble for a while.’ He returned his attention to the book.

Caroline put out a hand and lowered it again. ‘Couldn’t you talk to me?’

He raised dark eyebrows. ‘Now what could we possibly have to say to one another? As far as I know we have nothing in common.’

She grinned at him. ‘That isn’t quite true, we have Alistair Maclean. Now that’s a start, wouldn’t you say?’

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ‘Perhaps,’ he conceded. ‘But it isn’t very encouraging, is it?’

She stood up with enthusiasm. ‘Come shopping with me,’ she invited gaily.

‘What?’

‘Come shopping with me.’ She took his book out of his hands and tried to pull him to his feet. ‘I’ll buy you steak and cook it for you with my own fair hands,’ she said enticingly when he resisted her efforts.

‘Is that supposed to encourage me?’ he asked dryly.

‘Mm,’ she grinned. ‘I cook steak divinely.’

‘I only have your word for that.’ He stood languidly to his feet, tucking his shirt back into the low waistband of his faded denims.

‘But I can, truthfully.’

‘Right, I’ll believe you. Get your coat and we’ll go out.’

‘Oh, lovely,’ she smiled.

André’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. ‘Why this sudden partiality for my company? I’m sure Matt was full of how dark my intentions are if I’m encouraged.’

‘And even if you’re not encouraged too,’ she laughed. ‘And as you’re the only other person here I can hardly have a partiality for anyone else’s company.’

‘True.’ He put out his cigar. ‘What did Matt say about your staying on here with me?’

‘He wished me luck.’

‘What did he mean by that?’

‘I haven’t the faintest idea,’ she lied. ‘But I suppose he meant that he hopes I behave myself—not that I don’t normally,’ she added hastily.

‘I’m sure,’ he said dryly. ‘Innocent girls, like you profess to be, often stay in deserted cottages with complete strangers. I realise it’s done all the time.’

Caroline held on to her temper with difficulty, pouting prettily at his brooding expression. ‘You aren’t a complete stranger.’

‘Oh no, I forgot, you’re the mistress of one of my best friends. That makes you an acquaintance of mine too, I suppose?’

‘You’re not being very nice to me,’ she said sulkily.

‘Am I not?’

‘You know you’re not.’

‘Maybe.’ André picked up his jacket from the chair. ‘But I don’t trust people who don’t fit into my first impressions of them.’

‘And I don’t?’

André shook his head, his eyes flickering appreciatively over her slim body. ‘Afraid not. One minute you’re spitting like a wildcat, and the next you’re purring like a kitten.’

Caroline’s eyes sparkled mischievously. ‘I thought men liked variety in their women.’

He grinned, tapping her sharply on the bottom to usher her out of the room. ‘We do,’ he agreed. ‘But not all in the same woman.’

She held back her angry retort at his familiarity, and ran quickly up the stairs to collect her coat while he put on his shoes.

The man below watched her with narrowed eyes, conscious of the deliberate swaying of perfectly curved hips.




CHAPTER THREE (#u5074b75c-0a51-585b-b09d-91868c494543)


THEY came out of the foodstore, their arms laden with groceries. Caroline giggled. ‘I think we have enough food here to feed an army for a week!’

‘Mm,’ André agreed, looking at her over a bag full of shopping. ‘You shouldn’t have brought me out with an empty stomach.’

‘I like that!’ she laughed. ‘You had your breakfast not two hours ago.’ Surprisingly she had enjoyed her shopping expedition with this almost total stranger. It had been fun, and she couldn’t believe the amount of food they had collected when they eventually got to the checkout. André Gregory had insisted on paying for it all, insisting that as she was going to do the cooking it was only fair that he paid for the food. ‘Oh, look,’ she exclaimed, pointing to a stall that sold ice-cream. ‘Can I have one?’ she looked at him beguilingly.

His look was one of amused tolerance. ‘Okay, but let’s get rid of these things first and then have a decent one in that café.’

Caroline watched him beneath lowered lashes as he drank his preferred coffee. ‘My treat,’ she had urged, but still he declined the ice-cream. She hadn’t let his refusal deter her, and ordered a huge banana split for herself. She paused in her enjoyment. ‘It’s typical of me,’ she smiled, her blue eyes warm, her hostility towards this man momentarily forgotten. ‘It’s freezing cold outside,’ she explained, ‘and here I am eating ice-cream.’

‘Typical woman,’ was his only comment.

‘And that, Mr Gregory, is a typical male chauvinistic comment.’

‘Why the formality? We are living together, after all,’ he chuckled wryly as Caroline looked hurriedly around the crowded café to see if anyone had overheard his comment. ‘Don’t worry, no one heard. But if our accommodation arrangement leaked out to anyone that’s the obvious conclusion they would come to.’

‘Well, that just shows how wrong they would be,’ she retorted tartly.

‘Oh, I realise that, but would Matt like that kind of publicity?’

‘I won’t profess to know what you mean.’

André shrugged his shoulders, the denim jacket he wore moulded to his powerful frame. ‘Well, if I deny any relationship between the two of us they’ll obviously wonder where you fit into the arrangement. Oh, I know you say you’re a friend of Matt’s daughter, but can you honestly see anyone else believing we would stay here together in the circumstances?’

‘No, but then I don’t particularly care for other people’s opinions. Or do you have someone of importance in your life at the moment who might take exception to us staying together?’ She waited with bated breath, then shook herself mentally for acting so stupidly.

For a moment he was silent. ‘Yes, there could be someone of importance, but somehow I don’t think she’ll mind.’

‘She won’t?’

André shook his head. ‘I’m sure of it.’

‘Isn’t she the possessive type, or doesn’t she share your feelings?’ although she didn’t think it could be the latter, even she had to admit he was devastatingly attractive, and when he looked at her a certain way her pulse began to beat erratically. And she didn’t even like him! What effect he would have on someone who actually wanted him she wouldn’t like to think.

‘You’re singularly inquisitive today, Caroline.’

‘Sorry,’ she coloured. ‘I didn’t mean to pry.’

‘Yes, you did,’ he said softly. ‘And the answer is the latter. I would think she hardly knows of my existence.’ He watched the play of emotions across her face and could imagine the numerous questions she was longing to ask. He laughed at her forbearance. ‘Your thoughts are very clear, Caroline, but I’m not going to satisfy that female curiosity of yours. It will give you something to think about.’

‘I have plenty to occupy me,’ she snapped at him, grinning reluctantly at his teasing expression. ‘But I am curious,’ she admitted. ‘I would have thought that anyone you—–’ She broke off as she realised she was about to be rude to him again.

André stood up in preparation of leaving. ‘Once I set out to get someone they wouldn’t escape my clutches, right?’

Caroline had the grace to blush. ‘Well, I—–’

‘It’s not important.’ He laid a handful of silver on the table for the coffee and ice-cream, silencing her as she would have protested. ‘You can pay the next time we come.’

‘But we may not come back again, and I did say it was my treat.’

‘We’ll be back,’ he promised. ‘I can’t see either of us staying at the cottage for the next few weeks without a break.’

‘From each other, you mean?’

‘Not necessarily. I’ve found you very entertaining so far, and I see no reason for that to change. I wait in anticipation for your next move,’ he mocked.

He propelled her towards the car, opening the door for her to get in before getting in beside her. Close to him like this Caroline found his proximity overpowering and she moved slightly away from him. He drove the car with all the confidence that she had known he would, and she couldn’t help but admire his quick decisive movements on the steering wheel.

‘What next move?’ she asked innocently.

‘The next outrageous thing you’re going to do. You change like the wind, so I should think you’re going to lose your temper over something next.’

‘I don’t have a temper,’ she said firmly.

‘No, because you keep losing it,’ he taunted.

‘Are you trying to antagonise me, André?’

He grinned at her deliberate use of his first name. ‘I don’t need to try, I seem to do it quite naturally.’ The tyres of the car swished to a halt in front of the cottage. ‘Quite an accomplishment really.’ He opened the door for her as they took the shopping into the kitchen, studying her as she began to deftly put it away. ‘You know your way around here pretty well, don’t you?’





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