The Tempestuous Flame

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘I see. I suppose that pleases you, that you can take Susi away from me?’

  ‘Don’t be so damned childish! I looked for her home because it was only logical that she must have one. Debbie, the child, was overjoyed to think we might have found her. I’m sure you won’t feel so bad about giving Susi back once you’ve seen her.’

  ‘Thank you,’ she said stiffly. ‘I’m sure you’re right, you’re the sort of person who always is.’

  ‘Oh hell! Grow up, Caroline! Why should one little kitten mean so much to you? Ask Matt, I’m sure he’ll give you another one.’

  ‘It isn’t only the kitten,’ she told him quietly. ‘You could have taken me with you instead of sneaking off behind my back in that way.’

  ‘I didn’t sneak anywhere,’ he said with controlled violence.

  ‘Oh yes, you did. I’m not stupid, I knew I couldn’t take the kitten back to my flat with me. I intended doing exactly what you’ve done this morning. But you had to go ahead behind my back, as if I’m a child or something.’

  André sighed. ‘I left early this morning because I couldn’t sleep. I needed to think. The idea to look for the kitten’s owner occurred to me when I was already out.’

  ‘Oh yes?’

  ‘Yes,’ he answered impatiently. ‘I don’t have to prove anything to you, Caroline. What I do, and when I do it, is none of your affair. I told them we would take the kitten back this afternoon, you can please yourself whether you come or not.’

  ‘Oh, I’m coming,’ she told him firmly. ‘I want Susi to go back to her family as much as you do.’

  ‘Good. Now for God’s sake go and put some clothes on and stop flaunting your body! Nearly every time I see you you’re only half dressed.’ He looked at her with contempt.

  ‘Certainly not to attract you!’ she denied vehemently ‘I don’t even like you.’

  ‘No one asked that you should. I don’t require that you like me in order that I can get through the day.’

  ‘What do you do for a living, Mr Gregory?’ she sneered. ‘I can’t imagine you endear many people to you with your arrogant contempt of people.’

  ‘I’m a business man, and doing very nicely, thank you,’ he told her with a smile. ‘People require integrity, not social pleasantries.’

  ‘I wouldn’t have credited you with that either,’ came her parting shot as she ran up the stairs and into her bedroom. She had wanted to anger him, but knew by the half smile on those mocking lips that she had only succeeded in amusing him.

  She sat down dejectedly on her unmade bed. The trouble was, she had never met anyone quite like André Gregory before, and she didn’t know how to handle him. Her father was right, she was treading on dangerous ground trying to teach him a lesson. But she wouldn’t give in; she had as much right to be here as he did, more if he only knew it. But his attitude only made her all the more determined that he shouldn’t know she was Matt Rayner’s daughter.

  She spent the morning in her studio, refusing André’s offer to get her lunch and making a sandwich for herself later. He made no comment at her definite snub, but continued to read his book unconcernedly.

  Finally he stood up. ‘Are you ready to leave?’

  Caroline looked down at the sleeping bundle in her lap, absently stroking the soft black fur. ‘I suppose so,’ she said resentfully.

  André took the kitten so she could stand up, placing it gently in the box she had made up. ‘You don’t have to come, Caroline. The kitten will be all right with me.’

  ‘I know that. I may not like you very much, but I don’t think you would be deliberately cruel to a defenceless animal. I’d like to come. Do you mind?’

  ‘No,’ he said shortly

  ‘Well, don’t sound so enthusiastic!’

  It was only a short drive to the farm and André’s powerful car covered the distance in a matter of minutes. He helped her out of the car by opening the door for her, leading the way to the door of the low rambling farmhouse. Caroline was glad she had thought to put on her rubber boots and tuck her denims into them at the knees. The yard was full of mud from the recent rain and she sloshed along behind André as he carried Susi.

  The door was opened by a tall girl, her long black hair tied back away from her face. If Caroline had been expecting the epitome of a farmer’s wife, makeupless face, wrapover floral pinafore, and scraped-back hair in an unbecoming bun, she was to be sadly disappointed. This woman was quite startlingly beautiful, her hair perfectly groomed back away from her face, her make-up flawless, and her dress impeccable. She was tall and confident, and her blue eyes brightened with recognition as she looked at André.

  ‘Mr Gregory!’ she greeted, opening the pine door for them to enter. The inside of the farmhouse was even more startling—pine furniture, deep pile carpets, and a dark brown leather three-piece suite. Not at all what Caroline had expected from the outside. It made her cottage look very poor in comparison. The woman took the box containing the kitten. ‘Debbie will be so pleased. I can’t tell you how grateful we all are.’ At last she seemed to notice Caroline. ‘Forgive me,’ she smiled. ‘My name is Eve Gresham.’

  ‘And I’m—’

  ‘Eve!’ a male voice called, before a man of about thirty came hurriedly into the room. ‘Ah, Mr Gregory, I thought it was your car.’

  Eve Gresham smiled at the newcomer. ‘And he’s brought his wife with him this time too.’

  ‘Oh, but I’m not!’ burst out Caroline. ‘André and I aren’t married!’

  The young man looked at André and then back to Caroline. ‘But we thought—Mr Gregory said you were staying at the Rayner cottage just down the road. Both of you.’

  Caroline nodded. ‘That’s right. We are.’

  The man’s skin coloured a ruddy hue and he began to look uncomfortable. ‘I see,’ he muttered awkwardly.

  ‘I don’t think you do,’ at last André spoke. ‘We’re sharing the cottage, but that’s all we’re doing. We’d never met until a couple of days ago. We’re both guests of the Rayner family. It was unfortunate that we both decided to come here at the same time, but completely unplanned, let me assure you.’

  ‘Oh,’ the other man smiled uncertainly. ‘Well, I’m pleased to meet you. My name is Brian Wells,’ and he put out his hand to her formally.

  Caroline frowned her puzzlement. She was sure this woman’s name was Gresham. ‘Caroline—Rawlings,’ the last came out awkwardly.

  ‘My sister tells me that we have you to thank for finding the kitten,’ he smiled at her. ‘I can’t tell you how grateful we are—Debbie’s been so upset.’

  His sister! Eve Gresham was his sister; that explained a lot. And she was very beautiful. Caroline looked suspiciously at André, only to find him looking at her with those compelling green eyes of his, his amusement at her expense evident by the mockery she could read there. She looked away in disgust. ‘I can understand that,’ she said huskily.

  Brian Wells looked at her with unconcealed admiration, his blue eyes passing appreciatively over her slender body. He was quite young, in his early thirties at most, she would have said, with fair waving hair, a tanned complexion from working outside so much, and a tall loose-limbed body. He was handsome in an outdoor sort of way, and Caroline brightened under his intent stare.

  ‘Would you like to come with me now and we can return the kitten to its mother?’ he smiled at her. ‘Debbie’s probably already out there, she calls in there first every day on her way home from school.’

  ‘I would love to.’

  She was conscious of those mocking green eyes following her as she left the room and her head rose haughtily. The barn they entered several minutes later was warm and sheltered, a big pile of straw in one corner providing a home for the black cat and her five kittens, six once they had placed Susi back among her brothers and sisters.

  A little girl of about six looked up at them as they crouched down to watch the antics of the young kittens. She had the long dark hair of Eve Gresham, and also the p
romise of her beauty in her clear blue eyes and peachy complexion.

  ‘Uncle Brian,’ she exclaimed happily, watching the greeting between Susi and her mother. ‘You’ve brought Bobby back for me!’

  Caroline couldn’t resist a smile. She had even got the sex of the kitten wrong! The excitement in the little girl’s face was all she needed to help her over the feeling of loss at bringing back the kitten.

  ‘Miss Rawlings here found your kitten, Debbie,’ Brian Wells explained. ‘Aren’t you going to thank her?’

  ‘Oh yes,’ Debbie smiled shyly. ‘Thank you, Miss Rawlings.’

  ‘I think you can call me Caroline,’ she smiled.

  ‘Run along to the house now, Debbie,’ her uncle told her. ‘Tell Mummy we’ll be over to the house in a moment.’

  The little girl went off quite happily once she had seen Susi/Bobby settled. Caroline watched her go. ‘She’s very like her mother,’ she commented idly.

  ‘Very,’ Brian agreed. ‘My sister is a widow,’ he explained. ‘Her husband was killed when Debbie was only two. I’m afraid Eve often becomes bored here, although Debbie loves it.’

  Caroline had wondered about Mr Gresham, now she had had her curiosity answered. No wonder André Gregory had been eager to come back here this afternoon; he was obviously interested in the young widowed Mrs Gresham. ‘It’s a wonderful place for a child to grow up,’ she said finally.

  ‘That’s what we think,’ he replied thoughtfully. ‘Otherwise Eve would probably have moved into a town. Still, you don’t want to hear about us. Are you here on holiday?’

  ‘Sort of.’

  ‘And Mr Gregory?’

  ‘The same, I think.’ She didn’t really know a lot about the man, only that he knew her father well enough to be invited to stay at the cottage. Her father hadn’t been very forthcoming about him, and she was usually too angry to bother to ask personal questions.

  ‘I see.’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘And you aren’t here—well, together?’

  She gave a very definite shake of her head. ‘No!’

  He smiled shyly. ‘In that case, I don’t suppose you would care to come out to dinner with me some time? There’s a good inn about three miles away where they serve the best grills I’ve ever tasted.’

  ‘The Three Horseshoes? I’ve been there once before, with—with a friend.’ She had been going to say her father, and then thought better of it. Better to keep this pretence going with everyone; André Gregory would learn of his mistake soon enough. ‘And I agree with you, they do serve delicious meals.’

  ‘Then you’ll come?’ he asked eagerly.

  ‘I’d love it,’ she accepted gratefully. He seemed to be a nice man, and anyway, she needed a break from André Gregory’s taunts.

  ‘Tonight?’

  She nodded. ‘If you like.’

  ‘That’s great. Eight o’clock all right?’

  ‘Lovely.’

  She noted the becoming flush to Eve Gresham’s cheeks and the look of satisfaction on André Gregory’s face when they returned to the house. She drank the cup of tea with barely concealed impatience. It was made all the worse because she didn’t understand her feelings. Why should she feel annoyed because Eve Gresham felt attracted to André? Why should it matter to her one way or the other? Her father had told her she had no right to expect anything from him, and he was right, not even if André had almost made love to her the night before!

  ‘You’re very quiet,’ André commented on the drive back to the cottage. ‘Anything wrong?’

  ‘No, nothing,’ she answered primly.

  He smiled mockingly. ‘It sounds like it! What’s the matter, didn’t you like our neighbours?’

  ‘I thought they were very nice,’ she said stiffly.

  The hand nearest her left the steering wheel, moving to wrench her chin round until she was looking at him, anger at his treatment of her burning in her brilliant blue eyes. ‘You thought they were nice,’ he repeated softly. ‘Then why were you so eager to leave?’

  ‘I wasn’t!’ she denied heatedly.

  He held her chin firmly in his hand. ‘Yes, you were. Jealous, Caro?’

  Her eyes blazed and she tried to wrench out of his grasp—and failed miserably. He had a strength that was unshakeable. The fight died out of her and she sat back with deceptive calm. André relinquished his hold on her chin, running caressing fingers over her parted lips. It was just the opportunity she had been waiting for, opening her mouth and sinking her teeth painfully into his finger.

  He quickly pulled his hand away, not by a flicker of emotion showing the pain she must have inflicted, but his eyes darkened ominously. ‘You little bitch!’ His gaze remained fixed on the road. ‘You’ll pay for that.’

  ‘Promises, promises,’ she taunted.

  He looked at her fleetingly. ‘That’s no promise,’ he said grimly. ‘That’s a threat, and one I mean to carry out.’

  ‘That really frightens me, Mr Gregory. You don’t know how much.’ Brave words, but she did feel a little nervous of him. She had acted impulsively once again. Her father had always told her it would get her into trouble one day, and she had the feeling that day was very near.

  André Gregory was like no other man she had ever met; he was older for one thing, much more mature, and fully conscious of his own attraction. He had a self-assurance that bordered on arrogance, and he exuded a sensuous aura that attracted her while frightening her. It was a strange admission for her to make; she had always been the one in control, always managed to get her own way with her male acquaintances. And yet André Gregory reduced her coolness to burning anger and her body to pure desire. She had never felt as she had last night with any man before, and for a short space of time she had been at his mercy, with no mind of her own.

  ‘I’m glad about that,’ he said softly. ‘Because I mean it’

  ‘So you said.’

  She didn’t wait for him to get out of the car but walked into the cottage without him. It seemed curiously quiet without the kitten, and she realised their only polite source of conversation had been removed in Susi. They would probably resort to verbal abuse when talking to each other now. Who was she kidding? They had never done anything else. André had admitted that last night had merely been an experiment on his part, to prove to her that he could use her and forget her. And he had almost succeeded!

  ‘Don’t wait dinner for me,’ she said carelessly. ‘I’m going out this evening.’

  ‘Brian Wells?’

  ‘Jealous, André?’ she asked with sugary sweetness.

  His eyes swept over her scathingly, stripping every piece of clothing from her body. ‘Hardly,’ he said dryly. ‘I’m going out myself, as it happens.’

  ‘I won’t ask with who, I can make a good guess.’

  ‘You’d be wrong. Who would baby-sit?’ he taunted.

  ‘So you’re going to the Wells farm for the evening? Oh well, at least you’ll have complete privacy that way.’

  ‘You have a sharp little tongue, Caroline, and you aren’t very complimentary about Eve Gresham’s morals. I’m quite aware of your opinion of me, but surely you have no reason to be rude about her? I’m sure she’s done nothing to warrant such accusations.’

  ‘Oh no, except fawn all over you. She made a positive fool of herself.’

  ‘Something you would never do, would you, Caroline? That cool little head of yours works everything out logically, doesn’t it? Like your relationship with Matt—you can’t really love him, in fact I know you don’t. You couldn’t have reacted to me as you did when you love another man.’

  She faced him defiantly. ‘I love him very much,’ she declared. ‘And it would take more than physical excitement to change that,’ and it would; no matter whom she met she would always love her father.

  André took a step towards her, noting her involuntary step backwards with mocking humour. ‘That isn’t real fear I see in your eyes, it’s fear of what I can do to you. And in the right circumstances I can do q
uite a lot, can’t I?’

  ‘You’re disgusting! I’m glad I’m going out tonight. Why don’t you go and inflict your company on someone else?’

  He gave a bored yawn. ‘You could always leave. No one’s forcing you to stay here with me. I would welcome the privacy.’

  ‘I’m sure you would, now that you’ve found someone who’s impressed by your damned arrogance. But I’m not going anywhere, I have the right to be here. Excuse me, I have to shower and change.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ he taunted.

  Her eyes flashed. ‘I am not your guest!’

  André grinned at her. ‘Just a figure of speech.’

  ‘I’ll bet.’ She ran up the stairs, slamming the bedroom door hard behind her. The audacity of the man! Well, she pitied poor Eve Gresham, having to put up with the conceit of the man. She banged about in her room, opening drawers and cupboards as she looked for clothing to wear tonight. How dared he talk to her like that, taunting her with her desire for him as if she was completely permissive. How dared he!

  She sat down suddenly, clasping the silk blouse against her. Who was she trying to kid? She was jealous as hell of the evening he would be spending with the other woman. Oh, not because she especially liked him, but because tonight he would probably be with Eve Gresham as he had been with her last night—and not caring that it was a different woman! That was part of the reason she despised him. He didn’t see her as a person in her own right, only as an object, an object used for desire and nothing else.

  Oh, damn the man! Why should she care what he drought, he wasn’t important to her. She would go out this evening and enjoy herself. Brian Wells was young and good-looking and there was positively no reason why they shouldn’t enjoy their evening together.

  Brian Wells was the exact opposite of André, in looks as well as in character. The younger man was blond, with fair colouring, laughing blue eyes, and not an ounce of the arrogance in his nature that made André such a formidable opponent. Brian was clear-cut and uncomplicated, something she needed after a couple of days in André’s company.

  She stayed in her room until she heard the two men talking together downstairs on Brian’s arrival. She took a last glance in the mirror to assure herself she was looking her best. She had chosen to wear a below-the-knee russet-coloured dress, loose-fitting but gathered in at her narrow waist, long sleeved, and a roll-neck that gave her the look of a chaste nun, and when combined with her knee-length boots it allowed none of her body below the neck to be visible. She didn’t want to be too overdressed for the inn they were going to, having learnt from previous visits that the patrons of the inn wore casual clothing, often only denims and tee-shirts. But she had wanted to wear something smarter than that, if only to show André Gregory that she was looking forward to her evening out with Brian.