by Penny Jordan
It didn’t take her very long to drive to the address Brough had given her. Rye-on-Averton was only a relatively small and compact town, virtually untouched by any effects of the Industrial Revolution and still surrounded by the farmland which had surrounded it way, way back in the Middle Ages.
Parking her own car and getting out, Kelly carefully skirted the expensive gleaming Mercedes saloon car parked in the drive and climbed the three steps which led to the front door. Brough opened it for her virtually as soon as she rang the bell.
Unlike her, he was unexpectedly casually dressed in jeans and a soft cotton checked shirt.
The jeans, Kelly noticed as she responded to his non-verbal invitation to come into the house, somehow or other emphasised the lean length of his legs and the powerful strength of his thigh muscles.
As a part of her studies at university she had, for a term, attended a series of lectures and drawing classes on the human body, and whilst there had been required to sketch nudes, both male and female, but that experience was still no protection against either the images which inexplicably filled her thoughts or the guilty burn of colour which accompanied them.
What on earth was she doing, mentally envisaging Brough posing, modelling for a classical Greek statue? That kind of behaviour, those kinds of thoughts, simply were not her.
‘It’s this way,’ Brough informed her, the cool, clipped sound of his voice breaking into the dangerous heat of her thoughts as he indicated one of the doorways off the hall.
The yellow paint in which the hallway was decorated made Kelly do a slight double-take, a fact which Brough obviously noticed because he commented dryly, ‘Bilious, isn’t it? Unfortunately its shock effect doesn’t lessen with time.’
‘You could always redecorate,’ Kelly pointed out austerely, refusing to allow herself to feel any sympathy with him, even in the unfortunate colour of his walls.
‘Not really. This house is only rented. I’m only living here until the one I’ve bought has been renovated.’
‘Oh, so you’ve moved into the area permanently, then?’
Kelly berated herself furiously as the question slipped out, her curiosity getting the better of her, but to her relief Brough made totally the wrong connection between her question and its motivation as he responded even more dryly, ‘Yes, we have, so I’m afraid you can’t look to our removal from town as an easy way of removing my sister from your lover’s life.’
‘It isn’t necessary for me to do any such thing,’ Kelly denied furiously through gritted teeth, momentarily forgetting her allotted role.
‘Eve believes he intends to marry her. How do you feel about that?’ he challenged her.
‘How do you feel about it?’ Kelly sidetracked.
‘He’s a liar and a cheat and most probably guilty of financial fraud as well,’ Brough told her bitingly. ‘How the hell do you think I feel about it?’
‘She’s your sister.’
‘Strange,’ he continued softly, ‘you don’t look particularly surprised—or shocked. Perhaps you like the idea of having a married lover, especially one whose wife is both extremely rich and extremely in love.’
‘No. That’s not...’
Immediately she realised what she was saying, Kelly stopped.
‘That’s not what?’ Brough goaded her. ‘Not what you want? He’s your lover...’
‘And Eve is your sister,’ Kelly pointed out again quickly. ‘My relationship with Julian is no one’s business other than our own. If you dislike him so much, disapprove of him so much, why haven’t you told Eve so?’
‘She’s too much in love to listen to me or to anyone else. What is it you see in him? What possible attraction can he have for any woman when he...?’
‘Why don’t you ask Eve?’ Kelly suggested.
Ridiculously, dangerously, she was actually starting to feel sorry for him. It was plain how worried he was about his sister, and with good reason, and it was equally plain that he felt helpless to do anything to alter the situation. Even so, she couldn’t resist punishing him just a little, both for what he thought about her and what he had said...and done...
‘It’s obviously hard for a man to see just what it is about Julian that appeals to our sex. Perhaps you feel jealous of him.’
‘Jealous...? Look, just because last night I kissed you, that doesn’t mean—’
‘I mean jealous because Eve loves him,’ Kelly interrupted him shakily.
‘You wanted me to look at this plate,’ she reminded him, anxious to return their conversation to a much more businesslike footing.
‘Yes. It’s in here,’ he told her, ushering her into a large, high-ceilinged room which was painted a particularly unpleasant shade of dull green.
‘Hideous, isn’t it?’ he agreed, correctly interpreting her thoughts. ‘The owner must be colour blind—or worse. You should see the bedrooms; the one I’m occupying is painted a particularly repulsive shade of puce.’
‘Puce...? I don’t believe you,’ Kelly protested. ‘No one would paint a bedroom that colour.’
‘If you want to see for yourself I’ll show you afterwards...’ Brough started to say, and then stopped to study Kelly’s bright pink face with interest.
‘Now there’s an interesting conundrum,’ he mused sardonically. ‘Why should a woman who openly admits that she is sleeping with another woman’s boyfriend blush at the mere mention of a completely altruistic visit to another man’s bedroom? It was my bedroom I was suggesting you view,’ he added gently, ‘not my bed...’
‘I was not blushing,’ Kelly protested. ‘It’s just...it’s just...it’s very warm in here...’
‘Is it?’ Brough asked, adding, ‘Then what, may I ask, are these?’
Before she could stop him he was running a hard fingertip down the full length of her bare arm, right over the rash of goose bumps which had lifted beneath her skin when they’d entered the room’s unheated atmosphere. And what made it worse was that the brief and totally sexless stroke of his finger had made the goose bumps even more prominent—and not just her goose bumps, she acknowledged, mortified by the unwanted discovery that her nipples were inexplicably pressing very hard, tightly aroused, against the constraining fabric of her bra.
Instinctively she turned away from him, lifting her arm in what she hoped was a natural and subtle gesture which he wouldn’t guess was designed to conceal the evidence of her body’s extraordinary behaviour from him.
He had seen it, though, seen it and been both disgusted and angered by it, she recognised, if the look she could see in his eyes was anything to go by.
My God, but she had got it badly if even the mere fact of talking about Cox could arouse her body like that, Brough fumed as Kelly turned her flushed face and aroused breasts out of his eye-line.
It had been bad enough when he had simply wanted to protect and rescue his sister from the man, but now...
‘The plate’s over here,’ he told Kelly curtly.
Silently she followed him, keeping her distance from him as he unlocked the small corner cupboard and removed the plate, but as he walked over to her and she saw it she couldn’t resist giving a small cry of pleasure, closing the distance between them so that she could take the plate from him and study it more closely.
‘Oh, it’s beautiful,’ she enthused as she traced the design lovingly with her fingertip. ‘Almost Sèvres in style and execution...’
‘Yes, that’s what they said at the factory. They suspect that the whole set might have been a showpiece set made by a particularly gifted apprentice. Apparently, when they finished their time in apprenticeship the artists were often given the opportunity to do something to act as a showcase for their skills.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Kelly agreed absently, barely able to take her glance off the plate. ‘Oh, it’s lovely—so detailed
and intricate.’
She stopped and shook her head.
‘What’s wrong? Don’t you think you can copy it?’ Brough asked her.
Kelly paused.
‘I don’t know,’ she admitted. ‘It’s very complex, and the gold leaf work alone would be so expensive in materials... I... Can’t Hartwell recommend anyone else to do it for you, someone more experienced?’
Brough gave her a level look.
‘According to them there isn’t anyone more experienced,’ he told her quietly.
To her annoyance Kelly knew that she was blushing again.
‘I... I... It’s very kind of them to say so, but...’
‘They also told me that you turned down a very lucrative and secure contract with them to go into business by yourself.’
‘I...I like being my own boss,’ Kelly told him quietly.
‘Even though it doesn’t pay you anything like as well as working for them would have done...?’
‘Money isn’t that important to me,’ Kelly admitted after a small pause. There followed a very stiff, very pregnant silence during which Kelly recognised that she had said something wrong, but was not sure what.
‘I suppose you don’t agree with that kind of outlook at all,’ she challenged him when the silence had made her skin start to prickle. ‘I expect you feel that when a person doesn’t exploit their...talents to the best possible financial advantage, then—’
‘On the contrary,’ Brough interrupted her firmly. ‘I feel extremely sorry for anyone who feels obliged to accept a way of life, a means of living, that doesn’t make them happy.’
‘But you can’t believe that earning money isn’t of prime importance to me,’ Kelly insisted.
‘What I can’t believe is that a woman holding the views you’ve just expressed would in any way consider a man like Julian Cox to be a good partner for her,’ Brough corrected her.
‘I...I didn’t come here to discuss my relationship with Julian,’ Kelly told him tautly, handing the plate back to him as she did so, giving it a last lingering look of regret. There was nothing she would have loved more than to copy the design and replace the missing pieces of the teaset, especially under the circumstances Brough had outlined to her. But she couldn’t do anything that would bring her into closer contact with him. There was too much risk involved in far too many different ways.
But before she could vocalise her decision, Brough himself was speaking, telling her coolly, ‘We don’t have much time left before my grandmother’s birthday, so I’ve arranged for us to visit the factory on Wednesday. They told me when I was there that you’d need to collect the unpainted china from them and get supplies of paint.’
‘Wednesday? But it’s Monday today; I can’t possibly...’ Kelly began.
But he was already overruling her, telling her, ‘I know what you’re going to say and I’ve asked Eve if she will stand in at the shop for you for the day. She’s agreed. And before you say anything you needn’t worry—she did a stint at Harvey Nicks during her last year at school.’
‘Harvey Nicks?’ Kelly exploded, adding pointedly, ‘This isn’t Knightsbridge...’
‘No, it isn’t,’ he agreed. ‘We’ll need to get a pretty early start, so if I pick you up at, say, eight I can drop Eve off at the same time.’
‘Just a minute,’ Kelly objected. ‘I haven’t agreed that I’m going—’
‘What’s wrong? Are you afraid that Cox might object to you spending the day with me?’
‘This has nothing to do with Julian,’ Kelly told him angrily.
‘Good. So I’ll pick you up at eight on Wednesday, then,’ Brough repeated cordially as he walked over to the door and held it open for her.
There was no way she was going to be able to make him understand that she wasn’t going to Staffordshire with him, Kelly recognised, irritably marching straight past him and heading for the front door, where he caught up with her and commented dulcetly, ‘I take it you’ve decided to accept my word about the colour of my bedroom walls...’
Kelly shot him a fulminating look. ‘The colour of your bedroom walls, be they puce, chartreuse or vermilion, is totally and absolutely of no interest to me,’ she told him.
‘Vermilion,’ Brough mused. ‘The colour of passion. Interesting that you should suggest it...’
‘Suggest it? I did no such thing.’ Kelly seethed. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ she demanded as, instead of opening the front door, he very gently and totally unexpectedly placed his hands on her upper arms and turned her round.
‘I’m going to make you a cup of cocoa before you go home,’ he told her, adding suavely, ‘It warms the blood and soothes the passions. The Aztecs used to believe it had aphrodisiac powers, as did the Regency bucks. There’s no point in you rushing back. Julian is out with Eve.’
‘What’s that got to do with me? I’ve got a deskful of paperwork needing attention, and anyway, I loathe cocoa,’ she told him pettishly.
‘A glass of wine perhaps, then,’ he suggested.
Kelly started to shake her head, and then for some reason found that she was nodding it slowly instead.
‘This way,’ he told her, directing her further down the hallway and into another room, which was a cross between an office and a study, comfortably furnished with a couple of deep armchairs and a huge desk which dominated the space in front of the window.
‘For Christmas the year before last, Eve rented for me a row of vines in France. The idea is that you get the wine from your own vines and you can, if you wish, take part in some of the preparation of the wine. Surprisingly, it’s rather good...’
‘So you’ll what?’ Kelly asked him. ‘Buy the vineyard?’
An unexpected smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
‘Not this particular one,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s certainly an idea. I wouldn’t have an objection to a life of viticulture and semi-retirement... Tuscany, perhaps, close to one of those unbelievably visually breathtaking medieval towns...’
‘It sounds idyllic,’ Kelly responded enviously, without thinking, and then bit her lip, telling him curtly, ‘Look, I really can’t stay. Paperwork isn’t really my strong suit and...’
‘I understand,’ Brough accepted. His face was in the shadows but there was no mistaking the stiffness in his voice. Quite patently he was angry with her again, Kelly decided, suppressing a soft sigh. So why should she care either what he thought or what he felt? This time, as she headed for the front door, he made no attempt to persuade her to stay, simply opening it for her and formally thanking her for her time.
As he watched her until she was safely inside the car, Brough wondered what on earth had possessed him to reveal that long-held dream of his to her. What possible interest could it be to her, and, more disturbingly, why should he want it to be?
She was an enigma, a puzzle of unfathomable proportions, and he was a fool for even beginning to think what he was thinking about her.
As he went upstairs and switched on the light in his puce-walled bedroom, his glance rested on the neat white line of his bed. He had been lying when he had told her that it was his bedroom he had been inviting her to see and not his bed. Already, with remarkably little effort at all, he could picture her lying there in it, tucked securely beneath its protective sheets as they outlined the warm curves of her body, holding out an invitation which she mirrored as she held out her arms to welcome him.
* * *
EVE HADN’T HAD a good night. She and Julian had had an argument, a small altercation which had blown up out of virtually nothing, simply her innocent comment that Kelly was a very attractive and vivacious woman and that she and Julian were obviously very good friends. But Julian had reacted as though she had accused him of some crime, exploding into a rage so intense that he had actually frightened her.
‘Eve... Eve...’
Instinctively, she stopped as she heard the male voice calling her name, her breath catching in her throat as she recognised Harry hurrying towards her.
‘I saw you as I walked over the bridge,’ Harry told her with a warm beam as he indicated the bridge she had just passed, his smile fading as he saw her miserable expression. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’
‘Nothing,’ Eve fibbed, but his concern, his sympathy and most of all his sturdy male warmth and reassurance were too much for her already shaky composure, and as she spoke she gave a small hiccuping sob and a tear ran betrayingly down her face.
‘It’s Cox, isn’t it?’ Harry guessed, revealing an intuition which would have surprised his relatives, who considered him to be good hearted enough but a trifle lacking in anything requiring mental agility and speed.
‘We’ve had a row,’ Eve admitted, immediately adding protectively, ‘It was my fault. I...I mentioned Kelly and that made him angry... I shouldn’t have brought up the subject. Of course he’s entitled to his past and to...’
She stopped as Harry gave a fierce snort of disapproval.
‘Of course you’re upset,’ he comforted her. ‘You’ve every right to be, especially after the way...’
‘He was flirting a little with Kelly at the ball,’ Eve agreed, guessing what he was going to say. ‘But I know that they’re old friends and Julian is such an attractive man...’