Dark Encounter

by Susanna Firth

Her fingers itched to make contact with that mocking face, but some remnant of caution remained to stop her in time. 'You know perfectly well what I meant!'

  'Oh yes, only too well. You meant that you're the sort of girl who claims to be "respectable". The sort of girl who doesn't indulge herself even with a man she admits she finds attractive.'

  'There's more to love than physical attraction.'

  'Were we talking about love?' he asked.

  'I'd have to love a man before I slept with him. I'm not promiscuous,' she said sharply.

  'No—I'd hardly accuse you of being free with your favours. Any man that wants you has to be prepared to make the ultimate gesture of offering you marriage. You've no intention of giving yourself to any man just for the sake of the pleasure it might bring you both. He's got to put a ring on your finger and book the church before he's allowed to touch you. And until this paragon comes along, you like to pretend you're out of bounds to any man with something else in mind.'

  'You're very cynical.'

  'And you're very calculating. In your way you're just as mercenary as Diana.'

  'At least I'm honest about it,' she told him.

  'That's a great consolation, I'm sure. But, if it makes you happy, fair enough,' he taunted her savagely. 'Tell me, Kate, have you found anyone who fits the bill yet? And does he make you happy? Or do you lie awake at night wondering what it would be like to have a real man take you in his arms?'

  He caught her on the raw and she winced, remembering the tender restraint of Jeremy's courtship of her and how easily it had satisfied her. Then she had looked for nothing more, expected only gentle, passionless kisses, curiously lacking the excitement that she had always led to believe accompanied true love. Now she knew only too well to what a fever pitch her senses could be excited. But passion without love was an empty thrill, a cheap sensation. Or was it? Of one thing she was sure; to get involved with Nicholas Blake was not the answer to the question. Yet how easy it would be to surrender to him, to let him envelop her in a flood of physical pleasure which would ease the pain of Jeremy's desertion and help her to forget the feeling of despair that so-called 'true' love had brought in its wake. But that course might lead to just as much disillusionment and heartbreak.

  'I'm hardly likely to lose any sleep over you,' she said. 'Does that disappoint you?'

  'Not at all. I can see that I'll have to try harder to convince you.'

  She had no time to move away from him even if she had wanted to. His arms came round her, moving her against the unyielding contours of his body. The hard pressure of his lips on hers aroused a passionate need of him that she could not deny. Her mouth opened and she responded mindlessly to the bruising force of his kiss, her pleasure mounting with every second. Her hands cradled his head, her fingers burying themselves in the thick, dark hair that touched his collar.

  She murmured with delight as his mouth parted from hers to leave a trail of molten fire across her skin as he moved down her neck to kiss the shadowy hollows beyond it. His hands roved expertly over her, their touch bringing her alive with excitement. She was drawn into a flood-tide of sensuous enjoyment which was carrying her away into regions of pleasure that she had never dreamed could exist. In the chaste caresses she had shared with Jeremy she had never learned how to please a man, but now instinct took over and she caressed him, first tentatively, then with growing confidence, eager for him to share her pleasure.

  The sudden shrill ringing of the telephone on the desk behind them brought them harshly back to reality. With an effort Nicholas dragged his head away from hers.

  'Leave it. Let it ring,' she begged him.

  But, with a muttered expletive, he put her from him abruptly and reached for the receiver, picking it up and identifying himself in a voice that was clear-headed and precise and gave no indication that some two seconds before he had been making violent love to his secretary. Launching immediately into a detailed analysis of a client's financial problems, he was apparently unaffected by the emotions of the last few minutes.

  Kate came down to earth with considerably more of a bump, shocked into startled awareness by his sudden transition from the experienced lover, capable of launching such an assault on her senses, to the dispassionate businessman, absorbed in a new interest. A few short moments ago she had been the centre of his world, now she was disregarded. Was that how he treated all the women in his life, with so little care for their feelings? When she thought how near she had been to allowing him to break down all her defences she felt ashamed of herself. How could she have begged for his caresses? Reaction set in and, weak at the knees, she sank down into the nearest chair.

  He finished his conversation and slammed down the receiver, then directed an absent look at Kate. But if she expected any reference to the interlude between them or even a return to it, she was mistaken. 'Give me the Jowett file, will you?'

  So they were back with a vengeance to a boss/secretary relationship. Quite automatically Kate found herself rising to do his bidding. When he used that tone he brooked no questions or arguments. At the door she remembered and turned. 'Am I allowed out now?' she asked sweetly.

  He retrieved the key from his pocket and tossed it to her. She caught it and put it in the door.

  'Kate—' The command in his voice stopped her in her tracks. 'I've wasted enough time that I couldn't spare this afternoon. It won't happen again.'

  'You seem very certain of that.'

  'I intend to be,' he said calmly.

  'Is that meant to be an apology for your behaviour?'

  'No.' His gaze held hers steadily. 'I don't consider I have anything to apologise for. I just wanted to make it clear that I try, not always successfully, to keep business and pleasure apart. Do you understand me?'

  'Perfectly. I must say I'm relieved to hear it. I don't think I could cope with satisfying your jaded appetite every afternoon.'

  'What makes you think you managed it today?' he enquired dangerously, but she affected not to hear the comment and left the room with undignified haste.

  Back in the sanctuary of her own office she deliberately blanked off her feelings until she had completed the letters which remained to be done and then, bracing herself, took them in to him for signature. Absorbed in some paperwork, he transferred his attention to her only briefly. What had happened between them might never have been as far as he was concerned.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Kate returned to her office, her brain whirling at the thoughts that she had put resolutely from her until she had completed the task in hand. She supposed that the most sensible course would be to forget the whole episode as firmly as Nicholas Blake appeared to have done, to try to blot from her mind the image of herself in his arms, the feeling that for once he had seen her as an attractive and desirable woman rather than as a piece of office furniture, as indispensable, but as inanimate as the telephone which stood on his desk. No doubt she should let him assume that she was used to coping with a boss who made passes at her and that she was sophisticated enough not to take it to heart. He would only be amused if she adopted an attitude of injured pride and offered her resignation.

  And yet how could she continue to work with a man whose physical presence aroused her to such an extent? It was all very well for him to flirt and go casually from one female to another as the fancy took him, entirely uninvolved and in no danger of getting his feelings even bruised, let alone as shattered as she had felt after the events of this afternoon. Was she really capable of presenting the cool, casual front that he no doubt expected of his women friends? And how was she to know whether he would decide to leave her alone in future or amuse himself further by repeating the experience anytime he chose? He had assured her that it would not happen again, but could she trust him to keep his promise?

  At five o'clock she was no nearer to deciding what she should do. With a resentful look at the firmly closed door leading to her employer's office she put the cover on her typewriter and left for home. Mercifully Jane w
as out and she was able to have the flat to herself. Her flat-mate would have been only too willing to offer good-natured advice on the problem with which Kate found herself, but she was strangely reluctant to confide a tale which would reveal her to be as susceptible to the devastating physical charms of Nicholas Blake as Jane had clearly expected her to be.

  While she cooked and ate a supper that she barely tasted Kate went over the whole episode again, blushing at the memory of her willing response. How could she have fallen so readily into his arms like a ripe plum for his picking? Oh, she had made a token struggle, a mere gesture of resistance, but he had known as well as she how slight had been her attempt to get away and how ready she had been to surrender herself to his lovemaking. How could she go on working with him? She shook herself mentally. Physical attraction was a mere matter of chemistry. Nicholas Blake was an attractive man and she had responded to him the way any woman might have done. It had been a moment of unguarded weakness, one which he had exploited, but one which would not happen again, whatever blandishments he used upon her. There was no need to go to such lengths as leaving her job to avoid a repetition of the incident.

  Besides, she enjoyed working for Nicholas Blake: Kate freely admitted it. After the initial cautious days when he had tested her intelligence and ability to cope in a number of taxing situations, Nicholas had given her more and more responsibility and she had appreciated his growing trust and confidence in her. Where would she find a job that suited her as well as this one? Indeed, after all the trouble that she had experienced in getting a job at all, this one ought to be doubly precious.

  Yet, after marshalling every argument and excuse she could think of in support of staying with Nicholas, Kate knew that for her own peace of mind she must leave him. It was all very well telling herself that the application of mind over matter could resist the physical magnetism he held for her, but she knew that he had only to take her in his arms again and she would weaken. There was more to life than being just another of Nicholas' mistresses, she told herself firmly. She would hand in her notice the next day. The decision made, she took herself off to bed, where, despite her resolution not to dwell on the matter, she spent a sleepless night worrying about how he would react to the news.

  As it happened she need not have worried. Arriving early at the office she had got as far as typing her brief letter of resignation and was putting it in an envelope when she realised that Nicholas had told her the previous morning that he was visiting a client in Sussex and that he would be away all day. In all that had followed since she had forgotten. She shrugged. That meant that she would not have the satisfaction of handing him the missive personally, but she was secretly relieved not to have to face him. His temper was uncertain at the best of times and she hardly thought that he would take the news calmly. When she left to go that afternoon she placed the envelope with his name upon it firmly in the centre of his desk where he could not fail to see it.

  Yet, next day, it seemed that it must after all have escaped his attention. He was already hard at work in his office when Kate arrived and, apart from a brief word of thanks when she carried in his morning cup of coffee, he ignored her. If he had read the letter he made no mention of it, even when he called her in for dictation. Was it possible that it had somehow gone astray? Kate puzzled. She looked at the mass of papers in front of him, but failed to discover her own letter among them. As he dismissed her she plucked up the courage to ask him about it.

  'Ah, yes, your letter.' He reached to one side, picked up a single sheet of paper and studied it as if he had not seen it before. There was a tight, disapproving look to his mouth and Kate quailed inwardly. 'You didn't have the courage to deliver it in person, did you? Just left it like a thief in the night.'

  'You weren't in yesterday.'

  'And you couldn't wait a day before handing in your resignation.' The grey eyes were studying her now and she flinched under his scrutiny. 'Why do you want to go?'

  'I should have thought that was obvious.'

  He did not pretend to misunderstand her. 'All because of a couple of casual kisses? They meant nothing to me—to either of us. Don't you think you're being a little melodramatic?'

  She might have known that it would mean nothing to him. What had been a totally shattering mental and physical experience to her had been just another casual encounter to him. His attitude sickened her. It was as well that she was leaving him.

  'No, I don't think I'm being melodramatic,' she said.

  He shrugged. 'You should feel complimented. I'm not usually so easily distracted in the office.'

  'That's typical of your attitude,' Kate accused him. 'You're so—so careless about everything.'

  'If I was as careless as you believe I'd hardly have got where I am today.' He paused, then asked, 'How do you think I got to be head of this firm?'

  She had never considered the question. He filled the position with the confident assurance of a far older man. It was as if he held the office by divine right. She could not ever imagine Nicholas Blake struggling for anything. He was ambitious, yes, but he was a man who achieved his ambitions apparently without effort. Her face mirrored her puzzlement as she frowned and finally admitted, 'I don't know. I've never thought about it.'

  'Well, think about it now,' he told her impatiently.

  She realised how little she knew of him and his background. She could not envisage him in any environment except the one he dominated so successfully. Not for him the steady toil upwards, the yearly minuscule increases in salary until middle age brought a reasonable degree of success and power and a worthy reputation in his field. He had got too far too soon. She dimly remembered Jane telling her that he had made his empire in ten years, but how he achieved it she was totally ignorant.

  'I don't know,' she said again.

  He thrust back his chair and walked over to the window. He was silent for a moment as he stood gazing out over the tightly packed mass of buildings with the dome of St Paul's rising in its midst that represented the commercial heart of London. Then he turned to her again. 'Would it surprise you to learn that fifteen years ago I had nothing? No money in the bank, no fancy education, no public school background giving me endless contacts in big business to draw upon. I had just my wits and a driving need to prove myself by getting on in the world. It proved the best combination imaginable. You're looking surprised, Kate. Do you suspect shady dealing?'

  'No,' she said firmly. She knew enough of Nicholas Blake's business affairs by now to realise that he would never cheat or bend the truth for his own advantage. He offered his clients frankness and plain speaking whether they appreciated it or not. In a commercial world where a man's word was his bond and a deal representing thousands of pounds could still—be concluded on nothing more concrete than a handshake he was known for his scrupulous, even brutal honesty. 'How did you manage it?' she asked.

  'By damned hard work.' His face shadowed at the memory of those days. 'I thought of nobody and nothing except my work. I used to put in a hard day at a City stockbrokers, then go home to my digs and study until the early hours of the morning. I ate and drank finance.' He laughed. 'I even started to dream about the Stock Market! But it all paid off in the end. I moved up the ladder two rungs at a time and five years later I was able to set up on my own. Since then I've enjoyed a fair degree of affluence and the pleasures it brings with it.'

  Enjoyed was the right word, thought Kate, when she considered that the fruits of success included Diana Kendall and other beautiful women. He would not reject such temptations when they were offered to him. Why should he?

  'So,' she said calmly, 'you've made it. Congratulations. So what?'

  'My life in the past fifteen years would make a useful lesson in how not to waste time—in the office at least.' A flicker of devilry sparked in the grey glance. 'I'm merely assuring you that your jealousy guarded virtue is safe. I don't intend to spend my time in hot pursuit of your admittedly desirable body around the office. Does that set your
mind at rest?'

  'How can I be sure of that?'

  His glance narrowed and roved over her with a keen penetration that discomfited her. 'Aren't you slightly overestimating your attributes, Kate?' he enquired dangerously. 'Attractive you may be, but I don't recall saying that you were unique in that respect.'

  Kate was silent. She was no match for him when it came to offering calculated insults.

  He glanced at the letter of resignation in his hand. 'If, at any time in the future, you come up with what I consider to be a valid reason for leaving my employment, I'll give it my close attention. Meanwhile you'll continue to work for me.' He tore the sheet of Paper in half and tossed the pieces towards her. The movement reminded her vividly of the time when she had attempted something similar and thrown the pieces of his business card in his face. The knowledge hung between them as he intended it should. 'You're not the only one to make extravagant gestures,' he taunted her softly.

  And there the matter rested. Strangely, although he had wrought havoc with her nervous system once again and had worsted her in yet another confrontation, Kate was almost relieved that the interview had gone that way. The knowledge that she was staying in her job left her practically lightheaded with relief, although she found it impossible to analyse why and gave up trying in the end. She settled back again into the routine of office life as if there had never been anything untoward between herself and Nicholas Blake. And indeed, occasionally, looking at the brisk yet cool facade that he presented to her in the days and weeks following her abortive attempt to resign, she wondered if this could be the same man who had kissed her into a state of almost total surrender. Contrarily she felt piqued by the ease with which he managed to treat her with total indifference. She could certainly never fail to be aware of the spell he held over her senses.

  Diana Kendall still featured heavily in his social life despite what he had said to Kate about her. It seemed that she amused him. With a cynicism that surprised herself she assumed that this was what life was really all about: the need to use people without necessarily allowing yourself to be used in turn. It was a game which Nicholas Blake was a past expert at. Diana served his purposes admirably and would continue to do so until he found her demands for attention began to cloy and ditched her with the minimum of heart-searching. Or perhaps this time, for all his fine words to the contrary, he intended to take up the matrimonial bait being offered to him and Diana would lead him to the altar? Kate found the thought strangely depressing and, as often as it surfaced, she pushed it firmly to the back of her mind. Why should she worry about Nicholas Blake's love life? After all, he never gave a thought to hers.