'Mart's busy,' he copied her coldness. 'He won't be here tonight.'
'How do you know that?' she asked, bewildered.
'I've seen to it,' he replied calmly. 'We have things to talk about, you and I, and I've no wish to be interrupted.'
Lee gazed at him, incensed at his presumption. 'I can't agree that we've anything to talk about,' she returned icily, then spoiled the effect of her displeasure by adding, 'If you thought we had, you took your time coming back.'
'I had to go to London,' his smile held a hint of satisfaction as he recognised the unconscious indignation in her voice. 'And from there to Paris. Remember Paris?' he taunted softly.
She would have given almost everything she had not to. Her face went white. Paris had been magic, yet pain. It had been there that their feelings for each other had heightened unbearably, so much so that it had thrown all her other emotions into similar perspective. Every time they had explored the old courtyards, wandered down alleyways and around the Grands Boulevards, gone to concerts and danced together, the tension between them and inside her had increased until she couldn't bear it any longer. And all the while Slade had watched her without saying anything. How could he remind her of Paris when she had striven so hard to forget!
Realising they were simply standing staring at each other, Lee forced an indifferent shrug. 'If you must stay, shall we go into the lounge?' she suggested.
'You're being sensible at last,' he said smoothly, but, before she lowered eyes far too reluctant to leave him, she noticed that somehow she had managed to make him angry again.
He glanced around as she poured him a drink. The lounge was a large room, most of the furniture and paintings had belonged to Lee's grandfather and, because there was nothing in it she disliked, she had left it almost exactly as it had been in his lifetime. She had had it redecorated, which had made a difference, but that was all.
As she handed Slade his whisky and sat down, she felt his eyes following her. 'So—you've recovered from your tumble in the ditch?' he enquired, raising his glass.
'Quite!' she snapped, ignoring his silent toast and putting her own glass aside without touching it. 'I wasn't actually hurt.'
'Neither was your young friend.'
'How do you know?' She was puzzled that he should sound so sure.
'I rang,' he enlightened her. 'The boy's mother thought it kind of me.'
Lee glanced at him sharply, only to find his narrowed glance fixed on her breasts. Her breath caught and she went hot all over, and, as this betrayal of her body upset her, she desperately recovered her sherry and took a fortifying gulp. How dared he? her mind screamed, while her voice said coolly, 'She would appreciate it.'
'I thought you would think so,' he murmured, the green of his eyes glittering slightly as he studied her a moment longer before returning his attention to the room. 'So you came back to live here? I never thought you would.'
'I—' she had been about to say she had had nowhere else to go, then decided not to. The less Slade knew of her hopes and fears concerning that period of her life the better. She wondered if he had known of her accident but she doubted it and wasn't going to tell him. 'My grandfather wanted me to live here.'
'After you settled down?'
She refused to rise to his taunt. 'It happens to suit me.'
'Better than Paris, Rome, New York?'
She looked at him quickly as he threw back his whisky and his glass hit the mantelshelf sharply. In all those places she had been the mistress of a man whose business and financial genius was both feared and respected. She might have been a pawn in his high-powered life, but, whatever Slade's faults, he had protected her almost fanatically from the seamier aspects of such a position. If a word against her had got back to him the person who uttered it had lived to rue the day.
'Don't say you didn't enjoy those months,' he jeered when she didn't reply.
She sat rigid on the sofa, her lower lip sore from where she had been biting it. 'I can't deny that,' she admitted jerkily, for in truth it had been an exciting time, and her growing love for Slade had eased the trauma of its rougher passages, even if it had made other things unbearable.
'You enjoyed what I could give you,' he said harshly, as though he wasn't merely making a statement but seeking answers to things that had long puzzled him.
'Yes,' Lee admitted again, 'but I've changed, Slade. I don't place such importance on valueless things any more.'
That appeared to catch him on the raw, and for a moment he looked almost savage. 'Indeed!' he retorted, a dull flush under his taut skin. 'I don't see any great evidence of a change, so far. You're still careless to the point of being criminally reckless, and your appearance hasn't altered any. You could still be nineteen.'
Her cheeks paled at the cruelty of his attack, which seemed to go beyond mere words. But he had never been interested in sparing her feelings, and she wondered why he had ever bothered, in the past, to shield her from other people. He had only been interested in one thing. Yet sometimes they had talked. Sometimes they had lingered for hours over a cup of coffee, finding themselves capable of communicating with each other on a level which had, if anything, enhanced their physical relationship.
She sighed unhappily. He still clung to the opinion he had formed of her years ago. Arguing with him wouldn't alter it. 'I'm tired, Slade,' she replied tautly. 'It's getting late.'
'Once you didn't mind how late it was,' he reminded her grimly.
Again she sighed. 'If you're going to turn everything I say into an excuse to rake up the past…'
'May I sit down?' he broke in abruptly.
'If you must.'
He lowered his long length into what she had began to think of as Matt's chair, and she had to grit her teeth to hide her resentment. Slade reacted to any kind of opposition like a challenge and didn't miss a thing.
'Did your grandfather leave you much money?' he . asked conversationally, 'The house looks well, if not in the peak of condition.'
Of course he would notice the shabbiness! His own properties were immaculate and he never stinted on luxurious appointments. 'A lot of us can't afford the best,' she said coldly. 'Grandfather left me River Bend but no money.'
He considered her thoughtfully with those green eyes that could so easily turn black. 'You could have sold it, yet you're still here. Why, when you used to find it so dull?'
There he was, going back again, and she didn't want to talk about that. She hadn't found living here dull, not ever. She had merely been young and restless. 'I have three—well, I suppose you could call them lodgers. Two agency nurses and a man. Nigel Blakey, incidentally, works for you. I thought the house would be too big for me on my own,' she explained, not sure why she bothered, 'And they're good company.'
He didn't seem too surprised, and she wondered just how much he had gleaned from Matt. 'Where are they now?' he asked deviously.
She hated having to tell him. 'Julia and Nigel are on holiday together while Sandra has gone home for a family wedding.'
'Love makes the world go round,' he drawled sarcastically.
'What's wrong with that?' She snapped, staring at his hard dark face and sensuous mouth, willing herself not to feel wounded.
'Nothing, if you're gullible enough,' he retorted, then more softly, 'Aren't you nervous about spending the night here alone?'
Her blue eyes were mutinous. 'I've plenty to keep me occupied. I won't have time to think of it.'
'Ah, yes,' his eyes glinted mockingly. 'I've heard you write. Successfully?'
'If that's supposed to be a question,' she replied, an edge on her voice for he sounded disparaging, 'the answer is yes, occasionally. I'll never make a fortune, but I earn enough to keep the wolf from the door. Some of them,' she added pointedly.
His mouth twisted at her sharp dig, otherwise he ignored it. 'You illustrate your own books?'
He looked interested, but Lee sensed there was more behind his apparently innocent queries than that. 'So far,' she said te
rsely. 'But that's because, until now, what I've done hasn't called for anything elaborate.'
'And now?' he prompted.
'Now my publisher thinks my books deserve the help of a proper illustrator,' she shrugged, 'but I don't know…' Why am I telling Slade all this? she wondered disconcertingly. Why don't I just tell him to get lost and concentrate on what's important in my life, such as settling down and marrying Matt?
His eyes narrowed on her disturbed face. 'You always craved excitement, you seldom relaxed. Everything you did was at twice the normal pace. You could almost exhaust me, and I'm not unrenowned for my staying powers. I'm finding it difficult to associate the girl I knew then with the one you pretend to be now. The high-spirited girl who was never too tired to go anywhere, do anything, would have found it impossible to settle for the usually isolated life of a writer.'
Lee went white. Didn't he understand that the furious pace he accused her of setting had been prompted more by her feelings of humility and insecurity than anything else? Yet, if he hadn't understood, had it been entirely his fault? Confused, Lee halted her tumultuous thoughts to think about it. Would she have let Slade believe she was a thief, even for the sake of Ann and Ray, if she hadn't been attracted to him? She began to wonder if she hadn't unconsciously taken advantage of the situation to give herself an excuse for surrendering to him. In the beginning she had been too filled with a sense of excitement, curiosity and the startling discovery of her own sensuality to question if she was doing the right thing. Slade was a brilliant and powerful man, possessed of something far beyond mere good looks. He could dwarf other men of equal stature. He was wealthy and could give her almost anything she wanted. Too late she had realised that the two things she had really wanted were his love and marriage, but he never mentioned either of them. And, after six months, the knowledge that she would never be more than his mistress was something she had found impossible to come to terms with.
'I like writing,' she said, confused by such an invasion of unwelcome thoughts. 'I really have changed.'
'Not too much, I hope?'
Lee felt colour creeping under her skin as the near-insolence in his voice taunted her. Remember Matt, she kept on telling herself, don't take any notice of Slade. He has an evil knack of slamming the past in one's face with every seemingly innocuous sentence. He didn't have to come right out with anything. Every glance more than hinted that he had forgotten nothing and that somewhere behind that urbane facade some kind of fire, composed of she knew not what, still smouldered, refusing to go out.
She made a determined effort to keep the conversation impersonal. 'I think I've been fortunate in finding something to do that I like.'
'Once you liked the way I could make you feel.'
Unwisely she retorted, 'That was sex.'
'I'm glad you admit it.'
How nice it would be to slap that sardonic smile off his face! 'I wasn't doing it for a living!' she choked.
'Weren't you?'
How she hated him! With Slade she had lived a life of luxury, she couldn't deny it, and he had showered her with presents of every kind. How thankful she was that when she had left him she had left everything behind. She was suddenly curious as to his feelings after she had flown. She had wondered a lot of times, but never before had she felt so urgently in need to know, yet something fleeting in his eyes warned her not to ask. There was a rawness about him that suggested incredibly that some residue of the emotions he had experienced then were still there—whatever they had been?
'You gave me no opportunity to look for a job,' she said defensively.
'Or even to think of one,' his eyes darkened softly. 'Didn't you ever wonder why I spared you so much time?'
Lee frowned, not wishing to dwell on it. He was delighting in her discomfiture—to discuss the past with him could be disastrous. To remember the hold he had had over her should be warning enough. She stirred restlessly, too conscious of his virile figure and something in his eyes that she couldn't believe was the same expression that had once warned her of his stirring desire. Unexpectedly her heart-rate increased dramatically and she jumped to her feet, just managing to suppress a frightened shudder.
She didn't answer his question, but he didn't appear to notice. In a flash he was on his own feet and forcing her down on the sofa again. This time he sat beside her. He used little strength, but her traitorous limbs seemed bent on obeying him against her will. His hand was on her arm, the warmth of his breath on her cheek, and, as she felt the muscles of his powerful thighs pressing against hers, her heart took off on another burst of speed. When she accused him in a strangled voice of using brute force to get his own way, he laughed lazily and looked not the least bit repentant.
'I really have things to do, Slade,' she snapped, not caring for the gleam of determination in his eyes. 'I don't want to talk.'
'Neither do I.' His voice roughened as he held her firmly, then quickly slipped an arm around her to draw her ruthlessly closer. Before she could move, she was crushed to the hardness of his body and felt the heat of him searing her, even through her clothes. 'I have no intention of leaving,' he muttered.
'Matt!' she cried, as if hoping his name might drive a wedge between them.
'I've already told you, I've given him so much to do he won't be here tonight.'
Lee's lips went dry, her throat closing in panic. Slade was holding her tightly and his sexuality was so potent that it quickened her blood, making her helpless to fight it. His hands caressed her slowly, generating sparks of electricity wherever they touched. He didn't seem to have forgotten a thing about her and was obviously taking advantage of his previous knowledge of her to gain his own ends!
'You're giving Matt work deliberately,' she accused, miserably, 'in order to split us up.'
He eased back slightly to gaze down at her, a certain possessiveness in his eyes that she didn't understand. The coldness had gone, but what remained seemed an even greater threat than his former anger.
'I'm doing the only possible thing,' he retorted. 'Given a little sensible guidance, Matt will soon find someone else.'
'You don't think I'm good enough!' she flared, sudden fury enabling her to escape him and stumble to her feet.
To her surprise he let her go this time. 'I don't think you are,' he agreed brutally. 'And you're getting out of his life.'
Furiously she lashed back, 'You have no hold over me! No right to try and tell me what to do!'
'Haven't I?' he drawled. 'I think you're mistaken. We had an agreement, you and I, and you didn't keep your side of it. You promised me two years.'
Oh, God, he wasn't going to start on about that! 'Slade, that's all part of the past,' she tried to reason, then faltered again before she could find the strength to continue. 'You may feel you have a legitimate complaint, but you can't possibly want me now. Besides, I've rebuilt my whole life. I'm engaged and intend to marry. You have no right to come back and spoil everything for me again!'
Slowly he got up and moved towards her, as if it was imperative to keep her under close surveillance. With his eyes fixed on her, he replied tightly, 'A lot of what happened you brought on yourself and it was a mistake to opt out of your side of the bargain. A thief shouldn't really consider he has any rights at all, and to get involved with one of my relations was chancing your luck just a bit too far.'
'Matt could hardly be called a relation!' she retorted hotly.
'Maybe not a close one,' he conceded, 'but I did warn you.'
'I thought you meant just to stay away from your mother.'
'Then you're wrong.'
'Slade,' she implored, suddenly hating that he should think so badly of her, 'I love Matt.'
'You don't,' he said grimly. 'You aren't capable of loving any man.'
'Matt doesn't believe that.'
'More fool him!' Slade glared at her, increasing the pain in her heart.
'I'm not a thief,' she whispered impulsively. 'I know it looked that way…'
He laughed
harshly. 'Don't you think you've left it rather late to try and convince me? I caught you at it, remember? Pretty damning evidence, wouldn't you say?'
'Things aren't always as they look.'
His mouth curled derisively. 'You've had time to think. It might be interesting to hear how you intend absolving yourself?'
When it came to it, she couldn't. For all she knew Ann Bowie might still be working for his mother. Too late she wished she hadn't said anything; it had only made matters worse. 'I'm sorry, I can't,' she faltered miserably. 'But I have changed.'
'Changed?' he mocked, his glance sweeping over her. 'I don't think so, not even in appearance. You're still beautiful and sexy enough to stop a man in his tracks. And still capable of deceiving.'
Lee's cheeks flooded with hot colour as she retorted fiercely, 'I can't convince you, can I?'
'Perhaps I should convince you,' he muttered thickly, his arms reaching out to enfold her again.
She wanted to run, but again the mere touch of him had her limbs reduced to water. He was using his old ability to control her quite blatantly. The most she could do was to try and annihilate him with blazing eyes.
Her temper appeared only to amuse him, and, as his bold dark gaze bored into her, a feeling of peculiar lightness began enveloping her whole body. Crazily, she felt she was floating in an entirely new dimension, thirsting for something she had been denied for too long.
As he loomed above her, dwarfing her slight five foot five, she began to tremble while her eyes clung to him helplessly. She regarded him hungrily. His hair was still thick and dark, his features as relentlessly moulded. Only his sensuous mouth betrayed the warmth and vitality of that side of his nature that had been able to turn her to wax in his arms. She became aware that he was staring at her as intently as she was staring at him, and, as his eyes darkened, as the chemistry between them renewed itself with frightening force, all the fight went out of her, leaving her completely defenceless.
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