Ice In His Veins

by Carole Mortimer

  He shrugged. ‘A financial and business one. David has arranged things so that you will reap financial benefit, at my discretion of course, but have to worry about none of the actual business involved. I’ll be taking care of that.’

  So this was what he had meant when he had said provision had been made for her inexperience in all things financial! ‘I see.’ She bit her lip. ‘Could I contest that condition?’ She eyed him defiantly.

  His mouth was a grim angry line. ‘You could try, but I don’t think it would get you very far. The will is pretty explicit.’

  ‘And you agreed to it?’ she almost accused.

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘Will I have no say in—in anything to do with my grandfather’s business affairs?’

  ‘You will be consulted, yes,’ he told her arrogantly.

  ‘But the ultimate decisions will always lie with you?’

  ‘Yes,’ he nodded, a gleam of satisfaction in the depths of his grey eyes.

  Eden glared at him. ‘God, why couldn’t he have chosen anyone but you!’

  Isobel smiled with malicious pleasure. ‘I don’t think you’re a hit with Eden, darling,’ she taunted. ‘A female who dislikes you—quite a novelty,’ she mused.

  Jason’s grim unsmiling mouth and narrowed eyes were evidence of his anger at Eden’s childish display of temper. And it had been childish, she knew that. Whatever else this man might be, and no matter what she thought of his moral conduct, he was a financial genius. Her grandfather had obviously known this too.

  And Isobel Morton was quite wrong about her feelings towards Jason. She didn’t dislike him—on the contrary, given the right circumstances she could like him altogether too much. Thank God these were nowhere near the right circumstances!

  This afternoon she had made the decision to stay in England as her grandfather had wanted her to, but at the time she hadn’t realised she would have to come into quite as much contact with Jason as his being her financial guardian would entail. Would she now be able to keep to her decision to stay?

  ‘Eden hasn’t yet learnt that it isn’t always prudent to show one’s feelings of dislike quite so plainly,’ Jason drawled. ‘Her aversion to me has been obvious from the beginning, although there have been a couple of occasions when it wasn’t quite so much in evidence.’ He looked challengingly at her.

  Colour flooded her cheeks and she glanced meaningly at Isobel Morton. But Jason’s look egged her on to further insults. ‘I’ve disliked you since the moment we first met, and I believe the feeling is mutual. So you see, Mrs Morton, no matter what the press might like to think, I do not have designs on Jason.’

  ‘I should hope not!’ Isobel snapped. ‘When I mentioned the press I meant that they would perhaps think it odd that you aren’t staying at your grandfather’s house. I certainly didn’t mean that Jason and you—The idea is ridiculous!’ she scorned.

  ‘Yes,’ Eden couldn’t help the taunting smile she gave Jason. He didn’t look in the least amused, increasing her own humour. ‘Utterly ridiculous,’ she agreed.

  ‘Of course it is,’ the other woman dismissed. ‘And call me Isobel, Mrs Morton is much too formal.’

  ‘Isobel,’ Eden reluctantly acknowledged.

  ‘Eden stays here,’ Jason took control again, ‘where I can keep an eye on her.’

  Isobel flushed angrily. ‘I’m quite capable of doing that,’ she snapped, obviously not pleased about leaving them here together despite her denial a few seconds earlier.

  ‘She’s a little—highly-strung,’ Jason drawled. ‘She needs a firm hand.’

  ‘I don’t need any sort of hand!’ Eden put in furiously. ‘And certainly not yours,’ she added insultingly.

  ‘I disagree,’ he said coldly, his eyes glacial. ‘From what I’ve seen of your behaviour so far I think you need constant supervision.’

  ‘Day and night?’ she challenged sweetly.

  ‘If necessary,’ he said tightly.

  ‘Darling,’ Isobel crooned, her hand back on his thigh in a possessive gesture, ‘stop shouting at the poor girl!’

  ‘I wasn’t shouting,’ he bit out.

  ‘Perhaps not,’ she soothed. ‘But you’re both being very insulting to each other. I do think my suggestion that Eden move in with me is the only sensible thing to do.’

  ‘No!’ Eden instantly denied.

  ‘I don’t think so either,’ for once Jason sided with her. ‘You have enough to think about without having to worry about whose bed Eden might be occupying every time she’s out of the house.’

  Eden went white. Saying things like that to her in private was one thing, but saying them in front of this woman, who was listening with obvious relish, was another. Before Jason could say anything else she had sprung up out of her chair, walked over to him with angry strides and swung her hand hard against his face. She didn’t wait to see his reaction to this as she hurried out of the room, looking neither to left nor right, intent only on getting away.

  Jason caught up with her just as she had her foot on the first stair, swinging her round to face him. The marks of her hand stood out lividly red against the white-hot anger of his face. ‘I warned you about ever hitting me,’ he reminded her with slow burning anger. ‘I warned you—’

  ‘Yes, you warned me!’ She flicked her head back defiantly. ‘You also told me what to expect if I did!’ To her shame hot angry tears threatened to blind her. She blinked and they cascaded down her cheeks, her bottom lip trembling. ‘Well, you go ahead and hit me back, it’s only what I would expect from a man like you!’

  ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you,’ he ground out coldly, unmoved by her tears. ‘But your punishment will have to wait until later. Perhaps that’s what you’re hoping for, maybe what you really want is what I said would follow my retaliation.’

  ‘If you ever kiss me again I think I’ll be sick!’ she choked.

  He twisted her arm savagely behind her back, the movement bringing her close to the lean length of his body. ‘I’ve never been able to understand how a man can hit out and strike a woman, but with you I’m coming dangerously close to it. Don’t try your luck too far, Eden, my restraint might not hold out much longer.’

  ‘What do I care?’ She struggled out of his grasp. ‘You enjoy intimidating me. Well, that slap was just to show you that I won’t stand for it!’ Her eyes sparkled like gold as she put up a hand to wipe away all trace of tears. ‘You can say what you want to me in private, but I—I won’t be humiliated in front of that woman!’

  ‘May I remind you that you started the backbiting in front of Isobel? I was being remarkably restrained considering I’d just caught you sneaking back to the house after spending the afternoon God knows where with someone you let pick you up.’

  ‘We spent the afternoon talking in a café,’ she told him in a choked whisper. ‘I—I needed someone to talk to.’

  ‘Then why the hell didn’t you talk to me?’

  ‘You weren’t here! You’d gone to work, remember?’

  ‘And so you let yourself be picked up by some—Did you sleep with him?’ Jason demanded to know.

  Her mouth began to tremble again. ‘No, I didn’t! I only met him today, and—’

  ‘And you usually wait until at least the second date,’ he finished tauntingly. ‘I suppose that makes you feel better.’

  ‘I hate you, Jason Earle!’ She swung away from him, and this time he made no effort to stop her.

  The decision she had made in the café now seemed to be one she couldn’t keep. If she stayed in England and accepted her inheritance she would have to see more of Jason than was good for her. He wasn’t good for her. He had a twisted mind that distorted everything she did, made her even suspect her own actions.

  There had been nothing sordid or disgusting about talking to Gary that afternoon. Okay, so she accepted that it wasn’t the thing for a well-brought-up young lady to speak to a complete stranger in that way, but it certainly didn’t make her the Queen of Tramps either. Gary
had been very nice, with nothing lecherous about him, although she would never get Jason to believe that. He didn’t want to believe it, preferring to keep his bad impression of her.

  Admittedly the two of them had got off to a bad start, had seemed to strike sparks off each other ever since, but Eden had never known anyone dislike her as much as he did. He seemed to delight in thinking the worst of her, seemed to enjoy insulting her with what he thought to be the truth about her morals.

  She sat in the window-seat in her bedroom, gazing down at the garden at the front of the house. Jason’s personalised Jaguar still stood in the driveway, evidence that he and Isobel Morton were still downstairs.

  The telephone by her bedside began to ring, making her jump nervously. ‘Yes?’ she asked shakily.

  ‘Your boy-friend is on the line,’ came Jason’s terse comment. ‘Feel like talking to him?’

  Gary? But she had asked him not to call until next week. Oh well, she didn’t care what his reason was, she would just be glad to talk to someone who didn’t think she was the local good-time girl. ‘Yes, I’ll talk to him,’ she said breathlessly.

  There was a click and then she could hear the crackly sound of the telephone line. ‘Eden? Eden, are you there?’

  It wasn’t Gary at all, this voice was definitely American. ‘Tim?’ she asked uncertainly.

  ‘Who else were you expecting it to be, honey?’ he teased.

  ‘Don’t you start!’ she snapped, and then regretted it. ‘Sorry, Tim, I’m a bit tense at the moment.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. I’m really sorry about your grandfather, even more so because I tried to stop you going over there. Did you get to meet him before—’

  ‘No! How did you know about it?’

  ‘It was in the newspapers over here. I called Jason on the offchance that he could tell me your telephone number and he said you’re staying with him. So you didn’t get to see your grandfather?’

  ‘He died before I got here,’ Eden said dully.

  ‘That’s too bad. But I suppose you’ll be coming home now?’ he asked hopefully. ‘I’m sorry about your grandfather, and it’s tragic that you should have got there too late, but I’m missing you so much, Eden. When are you coming home?’

  ‘Not for a while.’ She explained her grandfather’s will to him.

  ‘That’s a strange thing for him to have done,’ she could hear the puzzlement in his voice. ‘What if you’d been married? I’m sure your husband wouldn’t have liked you having to rely on Jason in that way.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have any choice.’

  Tim gave a short laugh. ‘Poor Eden! It seems your grandfather didn’t trust women in business.’

  ‘I guess not,’ she agreed ruefully.

  ‘How about marrying me?’ he asked. ‘I couldn’t give a damn about Jason being in charge over there.’

  ‘Only because you have so much money of your own.’

  ‘Surely that makes me ideal husband material for you,’ Tim said eagerly.

  ‘I thought you’d changed your mind about marrying me?’

  ‘You angered me, Eden,’ he sighed. ‘You’re the first girl I’ve ever asked to marry me and I—it came as something of a shock when you turned me down. Blame the anger on my conceit. I just didn’t think you would say no.’

  No girl in her right mind would have done, not with Tim heir to all those millions of dollars. Besides which, he was a good-looking individual. ‘Maybe you caught me at a bad time, Tim. Jason had just sprung the idea of seeing my grandfather on me.’

  ‘You also said you wanted to travel,’ he reminded her.

  ‘Not any more,’ she shuddered. ‘You were right, Tim, it’s very lonely being in a country where no one is your friend.’ Her voice broke emotionally. ‘Everyone thinks I’m an unwanted nuisance.’

  ‘Then come home,’ he repeated.

  ‘I can’t,’ she told him ruefully, just longing for the sight of a friendly face. ‘At least, not yet. I feel I would be letting my grandfather down if I left now.’

  ‘Then how about if I come over to you? Dad’s sending me to Germany on business for a few days, I could come on to England from there.’

  ‘That would be lovely,’ she agreed enthusiastically. ‘I’m not finding it all that easy to cope with the loneliness—and hostility.’ Or Jason Earle, for that matter!

  ‘How come you’re staying with Jason?’ Tim asked, almost as if he could read her thoughts. But that was silly, he couldn’t possibly know the effect Jason was having on her. ‘I persuaded Claire to give me Jason’s telephone number,’ he continued, ‘just in the hope that he might be able to tell me where I could reach you. I couldn’t have been more shocked when he said you’re staying with him.’

  ‘Even if I wanted to stay with Isobel Morton, which I don’t, I don’t really think she’s in any state to entertain guests,’ she prevaricated. So Claire Charming knew Jason’s home number!

  ‘But you have a right to stay at your grandfather’s.’

  ‘Not to her, Tim,’ she derided. ‘Besides, the house is hers now.’

  ‘But staying with Jason isn’t a very good arrangement either.’ He gave an abrupt laugh. ‘I daren’t tell Claire, she would go insane with jealousy.’

  ‘There’s nothing like that between us!’ she snapped.

  ‘I didn’t for one minute—There isn’t, is there?’ he asked suspiciously.

  ‘I’ve just said there isn’t!’

  ‘It was the way you said it, sort of on the defensive. I know Jason, and if he can seduce my hardened big sister into his bed then he could get a baby like you there with hardly any effort at all.’

  ‘Except that I may not be willing to share his bed. Really, Tim, if I can deny you, someone I’m very fond of, I’m hardly likely to give in to someone I don’t even like.’

  ‘Mm, I suppose not,’ but he didn’t sound too sure. ‘Nevertheless, I’ll get to England as soon as I can. Will you still be at Jason’s?’

  Eden sighed. ‘No doubt about it. Jason tells me he wants to keep a fatherly eye on me, ward off all the predatory males—or was it warn off? He thinks I’m a man-trap,’ she explained with a laugh.

  ‘You are? My distant Eden? For an astute man he has you read all wrong.’

  ‘He hasn’t if you consider that’s the impression I’ve been trying to give him.’

  ‘But why—Never mind, we can talk about it when I get there. I’m missing you, honey,’ Tim added huskily.

  ‘I’m missing you too,’ if only for his pleasant companionship. There had been little of that for her here in England. ‘Call me from Germany and I’ll meet your flight in.’

  ‘I’ll do that. See you soon, honey,’ and he rang off.

  Somehow Eden must have lain down on the bed and fallen asleep, because the next thing she knew she was waking up and it was pitch black outside. What on earth could the time be? She sat up in a panic, pushing back the blanket covering her to look at the slender gold watch on her wrist. Ten-thirty! Lord, she had been asleep over four hours! The rumblings of her stomach told her that she had missed out completely on dinner, and after the meagre lunch she had enjoyed in the park she was feeling decidedly hungry.

  By the lateness of the hour she presumed Mrs Gifford would have retired for the night, Jason seemed to dismiss her after dinner. Dinner! Goodness, she could do with a hot meal, anything to fill the hunger gnawing at her body. The blanket pulled over her showed that the housekeeper hadn’t forgotten her, but she had probably considered she needed sleep more than food. At the time she had probably been right, last night’s sleep hadn’t been very restful, but now hunger was the predominant feeling.

  Jason would most likely still be with Isobel, although she would check on that before she raided the kitchen. If he wasn’t in his study then he was out. Eden looked down at her crumpled lemon denims and crushed jumper, debating whether or not it was worth changing them, just in case Jordan was home. The clothes were really too creased to be viewed by anyone but her
self.

  In the end she decided against it, still feeling slightly sleepy. Besides, it was late. There was a light on in the hallway but otherwise the house was in darkness. Good, it meant she could have something to eat without fear of being disturbed. There seemed to be plenty of eggs and salad stuff in the fridge, so she made herself a cheese omelette with salad, not wanting anything too heavy at this time of night.

  She had just finished the last of her meal and was halfway through her glass of milk when the kitchen door swung open and Jason walked in, the debris of a meal on the tray in his hand. He raised his eyebrows at her seated at the kitchen table, the only light in the room the one over the cooker. Eden hadn’t wanted him to know she was in here if he happened to come home while she was eating, now it appeared he had been in the house all the time. But he definitely hadn’t been in his study, so where had he been?

  ‘I was working at the desk in my room,’ he supplied the answer to her unasked question. ‘I just looked in on you to see if you were ready for anything to eat yet.’ He put the tray down, leaning back against one of the kitchen cabinets to look at her, making no effort to switch on the main light.

  He was dressed much less formally than she had ever seen him, the faded denims resting low down on his hips and moulding to his powerful thighs. His navy blue shirt was partly unbuttoned, the dark hair in evidence there curled together in tiny knots, as if he had been unconsciously tangling it with his fingers.

  His appearance had the effect of making Eden tonguetied. ‘I—er—I was hungry,’ she stated the obvious in her nervousness. ‘I—I hope Mrs Gifford won’t—um—mind my coming in here.’

  ‘I would doubt it, she left at six. It’s her night off, and I always get my own meal on a Tuesday.’

  Eden frowned. If the housekeeper had left at six then she had left before Eden had fallen asleep. Then who—? ‘It was you!’ she blurted out.

  ‘What was me?’ he asked tolerantly, as if he were dealing with a backward child.

  She looked at him dazedly. ‘You put the blanket over me.’