‘Thanks for nothing!’ She heard his mocking laughter as he left the room. She banged about the kitchen preparing their lunch.
‘What happened to the steak?’ André looked up from his book to the sandwiches she placed beside him.
‘That’s for dinner,’ Caroline said shortly, biting angrily into her own sandwich.
‘By candlelight, no doubt.’
‘If you want,’ she answered ungraciously. ‘Is there anything wrong with your sandwiches?’
‘No, they’re fine.’ He stood up. ‘Do you want a beer?’
‘No, thanks.’
He came back with two cans of beer and settled himself down again beside the fire. Caroline glared at him resentfully, her good humour momentarily forgotten. André looked up finally, as if her unflinching stare had finally penetrated his cold shell.
‘Is there anything wrong?’ he asked mildly.
She shook her head, red lights from the flames in the fire shining in her blonde hair. ‘Not particularly, but you aren’t very good company.’
‘I didn’t come here with the intention of entertaining an adolescent twenty-four hours a day.’
Caroline ignored his reference to her being an adolescent. ‘Hardly twenty-four hours a day,’ she said dryly. ‘Don’t you want to talk to me?’
‘Not particularly,’ he sighed heavily. ‘All right. So what do your parents think of you living all over the place like this?’
‘I don’t! And I only have a father.’
‘Then it’s a pity he doesn’t take better care of you,’ he told her shortly.
‘He takes perfectly good care of me. But I’m old enough to take care of myself anyway.’
‘And how old is that?’
‘You shouldn’t ask a woman her age.’
‘But you say you aren’t a woman in the fullest sense—yet. So what is the great age?’
‘Twenty.’
‘Twenty!’ he scoffed.
‘There’s nothing wrong with being twenty—you were once,’ she answered huffily.
‘Mm,’ he gave a slight smile. ‘And now I’m thirty-seven. That must seem very old to a baby like you.’
She shook her head. ‘No, I like older men,’ she told him truthfully.
André laughed. ‘If I didn’t know you better, Caro, my dear, I would say you were flirting with me, outrageously.’
Caroline kept her eyes lowered, her fingers plucking nervously at the fluffy carpet. She had liked the way he shortened her name, no one had ever done that before, and it sounded curiously intimate coming from this man. ‘Perhaps I am,’ she said huskily.
‘I doubt it,’ André said harshly. ‘Don’t start something you can’t finish, Caro. I’m not a little boy that you can tease and then tell to go to hell.’
‘Is that what you think I am? A little tease?’ Somehow the words hurt.
‘Well, aren’t you? One minute you can’t stand the sight of me and the next you can’t get enough of my company. Oh, don’t worry, I don’t take you seriously, but some other poor devil might.’
‘Oh!’ She stood angrily to her feet. ‘You’re horrible!’ She slammed out of the room, hurriedly picking up her coat and letting herself out of the cottage. Insufferable man! Her first impression of him had been the correct one.
The air was fresh and invigorating and she walked for miles. It was her first opportunity to rid herself of the cobwebs of London and she enjoyed every moment of the freedom the barrenness of the countryside gave her. The trees were bare of leaves and there was hardly any colour anywhere, but strangely enough Caroline loved it all. She sat down on the top of a tiny hill and surveyed the beauty of her surroundings. There was nothing like the peace and tranquillity she could find here anywhere else in the world.
Among the other country noises there was a noise that shouldn’t have been there, a tiny cry, like an animal in pain. She stood up, looking anxiously around for the poor animal, but could see nothing. Then a slight movement to the left caught her eye and bending down on her haunches she saw the cause of the cry. Looking up at her with frightened blue eyes was a tiny black kitten; it was so young that it couldn’t even miaow properly yet, only squeak. She guessed it must be about four or five weeks old, although it was very tiny for its age, seeming all ears and eyes.
‘Hello, little girl,’ she crooned softly, putting out a hand slowly so as not to frighten the poor little creature. The kitten flinched as if it was about to be struck and Caroline spoke soothingly to it until it calmed down again. Before it could run away her hand shot out and clasped the tiny thing about its stomach, feeling its tiny ribs sticking out. ‘Oh, you little darling,’ she crooned. ‘You’re starving to death out here!’ She looked about her, but there was no sign of habitation anywhere in sight. ‘How long have you been lost, my little baby? Mm?’
The kitten, realising that at last it had found someone who was kind, snuggled down into the warmth of her arms, its little face trusting. Caroline held it as gently as she could, realising how delicate it was in its hunger. Its fur wasn’t fluffy and soft as it should have been, but rough and matted, and Caroline could only assume it had been lost for several days. ‘How would you like to come home with me, Susi?’
For answer the kitten sighed and closed its eyes, rocked to sleep by the steady walk back to the cottage. Caroline had it wrapped up in her arms to shield off the biting wind, and it only stirred slightly as they entered the warmth of the cottage before settling down more comfortably within the protection of her arms.
The lounge door swung open with a thud and André Gregory stood silhouetted in the warm glow that could be seen from the fire. ‘Where the hell do you—?’ He broke off, becoming aware of the tiny bundle of fur in her arms. ‘What’s that?’
Caroline looked up at him. ‘It’s a kitten,’ she answered softly, careful not to wake the sleeping creature. ‘And I think it’s nearly dead,’ she choked over the last word.
André came forward softly, peeping at the tiny object in her arms. ‘Where did you find it?’
‘Out in the hills.’ She looked at him appealingly, her eyes swimming with unshed tears. ‘Oh, André, she won’t die, will she?’
‘I don’t know.’ He took the kitten from her gently, looking closely at its thin body. ‘Get some warm milk and we’ll see what we can do.’ She still stared at the kitten. ‘Caro, get the milk, there’s a good girl.’
She roused herself enough to run into the kitchen to warm some milk. André had placed the kitten before the warm fire by the time she entered the lounge with the milk, stroking the now warm body as it slept. He took the saucer from her shaking hands, placing it encouragingly before the little black nose. The kitten didn’t move.
‘I’ll have to wake it,’ he said finally. ‘It isn’t going to wake itself, and I think it needs food more than sleep at the moment.’ He gently woke up the kitten, facing it towards the milk. The little black nose gave a twitch, but the kitten made no move to drink the milk.
‘Oh, André,’ cried Caroline, ‘it won’t eat!’
‘Don’t panic, Caroline,’ He stroked the kitten absently, receiving a few half-hearted licks for his efforts. ‘That’s it!’ he said suddenly. ‘I saw a film once with the same circumstances, only then it was a Hon.’ He dipped his fingers into the milk and put it near the kitten’s mouth. It gave one tentative lick, then another, until André’s finger was completely bare of milk. He put the saucer closer to the small body and watched with satisfaction as the little pink tongue licked at the milk hungrily. ‘There,’ he smiled, standing up to stretch his long legs.
‘Oh, André,’ she launched herself into his arms, hugging him tightly around his waist. ‘Thank you, thank you!’
‘Hey!’ he laughed softly, holding her gently away from him. ‘I’m horrible, remember?’
Caroline looked slightly abashed. ‘That was before.’
‘Now I’m not so bad, huh?’ There was a curious stillness about him and she looked up at him questioningly. Her
eyes lowered again under the force of those startling green ones, conscious that for an unguarded moment she had seen desire flame in those eyes, desire that was quickly hidden, so quickly she wondered if she had seen it at all. His hands dropped away from her. ‘So why did you disappear like that?’
‘Don’t tell me you were worried?’
‘A little,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘So how about that dinner now?’
‘I can’t. I have to go back into the village and get some fish and chicken for the kitten.’
‘I’ll go, you cook.’
‘Are you by any chance hungry?’ she teased.
‘Ravenous,’ he laughed, tickling the kitten playfully under its fluffy chin. ‘I won’t be long,’ he promised.
‘Right.’ Caroline set about preparing dinner with a feeling of excess happiness. She couldn’t explain this feeling, except that the kitten was going to be all right, and André was being nice to her again. She stopped what she was doing. Why should André being kind to her make her feel happy? She didn’t know why, but then perhaps she didn’t want to know.
She prepared the mushroom sauce for the steak, placed the salad in the centre of the table, and heated up new potatoes to accompany the meal. Cheese and biscuits would have to do for a sweet; after all, she hadn’t professed to be a fantastic cook.
She heard André return just as she was changing and quickly zipped up the velvet evening pants she had chosen to wear before hurrying down the stairs. She wore a matching velvet waistcoat in the same shade of royal blue, and knew that the colour darkened her eyes and lightened her already blonde hair. She wore no blouse under the waistcoat, knowing that it suited her more to have bare arms and throat, her skin appearing palely fragile against the darkness of the blue.
André was in the kitchen feeding the kitten its chicken when she came in, and Caroline had an opportunity to study him without being observed. There was no doubt that he was an extremely handsome specimen, there was something about him that was completely male, with an air of self-assurance many women must have appreciated before her. He couldn’t possibly have lived thirty-seven years without capitalising on that magnetism, in fact she was sure he had—hadn’t he admitted as much to her at their first meeting?
He looked up, catching her unawares, and Caroline blushed guiltily. His eyes passed slowly down the long length of her body, pausing for long breathless seconds on the lowness of her neckline where the firm swell of her totally matured breasts could be clearly seen. Caroline had given up wearing bras during the heat of the summer just passed, and had not thought it necessary to recommence wearing such a cumbersome article of clothing. She felt sure that her lack of clothing wasn’t missed by those piercing green eyes, and for the first time she could ever remember she felt like covering up her body, away from those all-seeing eyes.
André straightened up from the cooker, his eyes now shielded by long lashes. ‘To what do I owe the pleasure of your charming attire, and pleasure it undoubtedly is?’
Caroline blushed again and then mentally remonstrated with herself. What had happened to all that poise and self-confidence she had been taught at finishing school? ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she said flippantly. ‘Isn’t it the usual practice to change for dinner?’
‘Mmm,’ his eyes glowed with a warmth she found unnerving. ‘But have you any idea of the change you’ve made?’
‘Don’t be silly,’ she said nervously. ‘I’m still wearing trousers and a top.’
‘If you say so.’ He took a step towards her. ‘Look after the kitten’s food while I go and change too, will you? I can’t have you shaming me.’
‘I’m sure I could never do that,’ Caroline returned sweetly, picking the kitten up from the floor where it had tired itself out exploring, and was now unsuccessfully trying to make itself comfortable on the vinyl floor. She looked at him over the safety of two little black ears. ‘Dinner in fifteen minutes.’
André took the stairs two at a time. ‘I’ll be down in ten,’ he promised mockingly.
She placed the steaks under the grill to cook and the mushroom sauce on to simmer while she made a makeshift basket for Susi. It didn’t take her long to cut a hole out of the side of the box they had brought their shopping home in, and with one of Caroline’s old tee-shirts left over from the summer tucked into the bottom, Susi was soon fast asleep before the roasting fire. Caroline returned to the kitchen, covering the steak with the delicious sauce. She had just served the steaks on to the plates when André returned downstairs.
If he had been surprised by her appearance she was even more so by his. Dressed completely in black, from the clinging silk shirt to the snug-fitting trousers. He had the look of a devil, a devil whose eyes glowed emerald green in his darkly tanned face.
‘Don’t you ever wear shoes?’ she asked tremulously, clutching on to the first sane thought that came into her head. But perhaps it wasn’t so sane. The fact that he chose to walk about like that gave their relationship an intimacy it just didn’t possess.
‘Not if I can help it,’ he grinned. ‘Does it offend you?’
‘Would it matter if it did?’
‘Maybe,’ he replied enigmatically. ‘Does it?’
Caroline flicked back her hair nervously. ‘No,’ she said firmly. ‘Are you ready for your dinner now?’
‘Yes, please, and may I say it smells delicious.’
‘You may,’ she smiled almost shyly. ‘Go through and I’ll bring these in a moment.’ When she had recovered her equilibrium, she thought dryly. Her father had been right to warn her of this man’s devastating charm; if she wasn’t careful she might even find herself falling for him. But that wouldn’t do at all! This man already had enough of an inflated ego without any encouragement from her.
It was disconcerting to find that André had taken her at her word and put lit candles on the table, turning off the main electric light and casting dark shadows over the room. With any other man Caroline might have found the setting romantic, with this man it was downright dangerous. But what could she say without giving him the satisfaction of knowing he had some effect on her?
The green eyes mocked her as she placed his laden plate before him without making contact with his firm warm body. She was increasingly conscious of the clean male smell of him, concentrating her whole attention on her own meal.
André leant forward and poured her out a glass of wine. For preparing this appetising meal,’ he explained at her enquiring look.
‘But you didn’t know it would be.’
‘Sure I did. You wouldn’t tell me you were good at something if you weren’t confident that you were.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘You aren’t the type.’ He tasted the juicy steak. ‘Mmm, lovely. Where did you learn to make the sauce? It’s superb.’
‘We were taught that sort of thing at school,’ she informed him, secretly pleased by his praise, although remaining outwardly cool.
‘Finishing school, no doubt?’
Caroline sipped at her wine appreciatively, knowing in her limited experience that it had been chosen to accompany steak. She raised enquiring eyebrows. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘Because you have the air of a “finished” young lady. Anyway, isn’t that where you met Matt’s daughter, and consequently Matt himself?’
Caroline shook her head. ‘I’ve known—Cynthia all my life. We were at school together.’
André smiled mockingly. ‘I see. But I doubt if that young lady can cook like this. I’m sure she had better things to do with her time than learn how to cook.’
Caroline’s mouth tightened angrily. ‘I believe you said you’d never met her?’ she said sweetly.
‘I was going to once.’
‘Then why didn’t you?’ She still couldn’t understand why she had never heard her father mention this man before, especially as they seemed to know each other so well.
‘I managed to get out of it. Matt’s intention of finding a husband for h
is daughter is very obvious, and from that observation I can only suppose the poor girl isn’t as attractive as she could be,’ he laughed softly. ‘She probably has buck-teeth and spots.’
‘Don’t be absurd!’
‘Okay then, what does she look like?’
‘Well, she—’ Caroline hesitated. ‘She looks rather like me.’
‘Impossible. There couldn’t be two like you.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Good question.’ He became thoughtful, studying her intensely. ‘You have an unusual beauty, a beauty that couldn’t possibly be copied.’
She blushed self-consciously. ‘Blonde hair and blue eyes are hardly original,’ she scoffed to cover her embarrassment, becoming more and more aware of her precarious position alone in this lonely cottage with a man she hardly knew. She smiled at him mockingly. ‘If I didn’t know you better, Mr Gregory, I would say you were flirting with me,’ she tauntingly repeated his words of this afternoon. ‘Outrageously,’ she added teasingly.
Deep green eyes ravaged the beauty of her face and body. ‘Perhaps I am,’ he agreed huskily.
It wasn’t the answer she had expected, and standing up to shield her nervousness she bent down to study the exhausted but contented kitten still nestled inside the box. She couldn’t bear to sit at the table and have André Gregory taunting her with his devastating masculinity. There was something unbearably intimate about this dinner that had started out so innocently, at least, on her part. But surely no situation like this could ever be innocent, and she at last became aware of the danger of her position.
Finally she looked up. ‘Do you think Susi will be all right now?’
André picked up their two wine glasses and came to sit beside her near the fire. He handed her her still half-full glass. ‘Susi?’
‘The kitten,’ she explained.
‘Oh, I see. Changing the subject.’
‘You were becoming too personal,’ she said tartly.
André laughed softly, his look warm and caressing in the candlelight. ‘That isn’t your real reason. I’ve said much more personal things to you and you haven’t reacted to them at all. Why should the fact that I find you attractive upset you?’
The Tempestuous Flame Page 5