‘No,’ he acknowledged slowly. ‘But that wasn’t just because you’re embarrassed about yesterday.’
She stood up, moving restlessly about the room, wondering what explanation she could give David that would sound plausible. ‘I think we have a clash of temperaments,’ she spoke softly.
‘In what way?’
‘In every way I can think of,’ she snapped. ‘I despise everything about the man!’
‘Leonie!’
She sighed at her unwarranted vehemence. ‘He’s a rich playboy who buys and sells everything that he wants and then doesn’t want, including women,’ she said more calmly. ‘I despise that type of man.’
‘Are you sure he didn’t make a pass at you?’ David frowned, still not understanding.
‘Yes,’ she bit out.
‘Disappointed that he didn’t?’ David sounded puzzled.
Her mouth twisted. ‘I don’t think that question even deserves an answer,’ she dismissed disgustedly. ‘Look, I know the type of man he is, David, because—because I was married to one,’ she admitted gruffly.
His expression softened at the admission. ‘I’m sorry, Leonie,’ he said gently. ‘I had no idea. If you really think you can’t work with the man…’
‘And how would you explain the change to him after assuring him I was definitely available?’ she mocked.
‘I could always tell him you broke your neck!’
‘Now that I’m sure he would believe!’ she returned David’s smile. ‘But I won’t have you jeopardise the contract in that way. I’m just being silly, of course I can handle Adam Faulkner!’
There was another cellophane-wrapped box from the same florist laying on her desk when she returned to her office, and she opened it with shaking fingers, this single red rose made out of the finest silk, so delicate it looked as if it had just been cut from the garden. The card read ‘This rose won’t be crushed—and neither will I.’ Again it was unsigned, but Leonie knew the sender, only too well.
‘An admirer?’ Gary grinned at her from the doorway.
She sighed. ‘You could say that.’
Gary sauntered into the room, a few inches taller than her, with sandy hair and light blue eyes. The two of them had been friends since she first came to work for Stevenson Interiors. He touched the rose. ‘He has good taste,’ he murmured, looking at her and not the flower.
Ordinarily she wouldn’t have minded his teasing, was always refusing the invitations he made her, both of them knowing that he had been happily married for the last five years. But today she wasn’t in the mood for his lighthearted flirting. ‘It’s been a long day,’ she said abruptly, turning back to her work.
With a shrug Gary left her to it. Leonie sighed, angry with Adam for upsetting her so much that she had been rude to a man who, although a flirt, had always been kind to her. She stood up to go and apologise to him.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘FOILED you, didn’t we?’ she looked triumphantly at Harvey as he sniffed the silk rose in puzzlement, sitting on the dining-table to eye what looked like a delicious-tasting flower but wasn’t. ‘You won’t be able to chew this one beyond recognition,’ she crowed, as with a disgusted tilt of his nose Harvey jumped down on to the floor.
She had brought the rose home with her, too impressed by its beauty to throw it away as she had the last one. And much to her delight she had found that Harvey, who usually demolished any flowers she brought into the house, had no interest in the delicate bloom.
‘Out you go,’ she opened the window for him. ‘No, I’m not going out on the tiles again tonight myself,’ she told him as he hung back reluctantly, obviously not intending going anywhere if he was going to be left on his own for hours again. ‘Once was enough,’ she muttered as she left the window open for him.
She stared broodingly at the rose as she tried to reconcile herself to working for Adam as from Monday. The second—indestructible—rose, had been a warning that he was still intent on having an affair with her. Why couldn’t he—She looked up sharply as the doorbell rang, instantly knowing who it was. David was her only, rare, visitor here, and he had gone away for the weekend.
‘Adam,’ she greeted resignedly as she was proved correct.
‘Leonie,’ he returned lightly. ‘Am I interrupting anything?’ he arched dark brows.
‘Yes.’
‘Oh good,’ he walked past her into the room beyond, his denims fitted tautly to his thighs and legs, his black sweat-shirt doing nothing to hide the bulge of muscle in his arms and chest. He looked about the empty flat, his gaze returning to hers. ‘I thought you said I was interrupting something?’
‘You are,’ she closed the door forcefully before joining him. ‘My privacy!’
He grinned, thrusting his hands into the back pockets of his denims. ‘Nothing is private between us,’ he dismissed, looking about him appreciatively.
Leonie tried to see the flat through his eyes, knowing the soft peach and cream decor, and the low-backed furniture and fluffy carpets, wouldn’t be to everyone’s liking. But it was to hers, was all her own work, and she didn’t welcome any comments Adam might care to make.
His gaze returned to hers. ‘I think Dad should have let you decorate and refurnish the house, after all,’ he drawled. ‘Maybe then it wouldn’t look and feel like a mausoleum!’
‘You agreed with the suggestion when he said he wanted to bring in professionals!’ she was stung into accusing.
He shrugged broad shoulders. ‘It was his house. But I didn’t come here to discuss the past,’ he frowned.
‘Then why are you here?’ she demanded resentfully.
‘To take you out.’
She flushed. ‘It’s usual to ask first,’ she snapped.
He shook his head, smiling. ‘I knew what your answer would be if I did that.’
‘I’m sure you did,’ she bit out.
‘You’ll enjoy yourself,’ he promised encouragingly.
She blushed. ‘I’m sure I won’t!’
Adam chuckled softly. ‘Are they very naughty thoughts, Leonie?’ he mocked.
‘Let’s leave my thoughts, naughty or otherwise, out of this,’ she said sharply. ‘I have no desire to go anywhere with you.’
‘Oh yes you do,’ he contradicted huskily. ‘And maybe later on I just might take you there. But right now I have it in mind to take you skating.’
‘Skating!’
‘Mm,’ he nodded.
She frowned. ‘What sort of skating?’
‘Well, hopefully, the sort where we manage to stay upright,’ he grinned. ‘Although I have no objection if you get the urge to fall on me!’
‘Adam, have you been drinking?’ she looked at him suspiciously.
He shook his head. ‘I’m simply acting like a—-’
‘Lover,’ she completed resignedly.
‘Exactly. Lovers take their lovers out on mad escapades like this all the time.’
‘Who told you that?’ she derided.
‘I read it somewhere,’ he said with suppressed humour.
‘You still haven’t told me what sort of skating it will be,’ Leonie frowned.
‘Roller-skating.’
‘But I can’t roller-skate!’
‘Can you ice-skate?’
‘No.’ Her sense of humour couldn’t be repressed any further, not resisting as Adam pushed her in the direction of the hall to get her jacket. ‘Can you?’
‘Roller or ice?’ he quirked dark brows.
‘Either!’
‘No,’ he informed her happily. ‘But just think of the fun we’ll have trying!’
And they did have fun, Leonie couldn’t ever remember laughing so much in one evening in her life before, let alone with the man who had always seemed so rigidly correct to her. Her tendency to be clumsy wasn’t so noticeable with everyone else falling over too, in fact she had almost mastered the sport by the end of the evening while Adam still landed in an undignified heap on his bottom most of the time, and that f
or a man who had always seemed so dignified!
This new irrepressible Adam was impossible to resist, laughing at himself and her in a way she would never have thought he could. If this evening was an example of his indulgence as a lover she didn’t know how she was going to continue to say no.
‘I’m coming in,’ he told her when they reached her flat, his expression suddenly serious.
‘Adam—’
‘I want to look at your hand.’
The statement startled her; it wasn’t what she had been expecting at all. ‘My hand?’ she repeated incredulously.
‘Well I’d like to take a look at all of you,’ he told her huskily. ‘But I think we’ll start with the hand. Did you think I wouldn’t notice the discomfort it’s given you tonight?’ he chided as they entered her home.
She had hoped that he hadn’t, but she should have known better; Adam noticed everything! Her hand had been aching most of the afternoon but she had put that down to the healing process. The increased pain she had been suffering the last couple of hours seemed to indicate it was more than that, her falls at the rink only aggravating it.
She took off her jacket, holding out her hand for Adam’s inspection.
‘You may as well sit down,’ he shrugged out of his own casual jacket. ‘I’m not going for a while yet.’ He came down on his haunches in front of her, compellingly attractive.
He was very gentle with her as he peeled off the bandage, removing the gauze dressing to reveal a very red and angry-looking cut. Leonie grimaced as he unbuttoned the cuff of her blouse to show that the redness extended in a line up her arm.
‘It’s infected,’ he mumbled, looking up at her. ‘You’ll have to go to hospital for treatment, I’m afraid.’
‘Couldn’t it wait until morning?’
‘It could,’ he acknowledged softly. ‘But why suffer all night when you could get some relief now from the pain I’m sure you must be feeling?’
His logic always made sense, and he was right, the pain was bad; she doubted she would be able to sleep tonight without something to dull the pain.
‘I’ll just put a fresh bandage on it and then we’ll go,’ Adam stood up decisively as he sensed her consent. ‘Do you have a medicine cabinet?’
‘In the bathroom,’ she pointed to the appropriate door. ‘With my penchant for accidents I’d be insane to be without one,’ she added self-derisively.
Adam grinned. ‘I know you can’t be feeling too bad when you still have your sense of humour. It was one of the things I always liked about you.’
One of the only things, Leonie thought ruefully as he went into the bathroom. The statement had reminded her of exactly who they were, of the fact that they were in the process of divorcing each other; she had been in danger of forgetting that fact with Adam being so boyishly charming.
He was still in the bathroom when the telephone began ringing. God, she had forgotten it was Friday night, hadn’t realised it was already eleven-thirty!
‘Yes?’ she grabbed up the receiver, not in the least surprised when she recognised the caller’s voice, giving a mental groan as Adam came out of the bathroom, frowning when he saw she was on the telephone. ‘Oh yes?’ Leonie answered her caller faintly. ‘How interesting. Look, I’m sorry,’ she cut in hastily as Adam approached. ‘But I can’t talk just now.’ She slammed the receiver down, smiling brightly at Adam.
He frowned down at her. ‘Who on earth telephones at this time of night?’ he asked slowly.
She shrugged. ‘I remember you did a couple of times during the two weeks before we were married.’
‘That was different,’ he dismissed.
‘Why was it?’
‘Because if I couldn’t be in bed with you then I wanted to at least talk to you while you were in bed,’ he told her absently, his thoughts obviously still on the call she had just taken.
‘Maybe my caller felt the same way,’ her voice was shrill at the irony of that statement.
‘Is he the one that owns the man’s razor in the bathroom?’
Her mouth tightened. ‘I’m the one who owns the man’s razor in the bathroom,’ she bit out resentfully. ‘For some reason they happen to be cheaper and easier to find than the so-called women’s razors are. And please don’t ask why I need a razor,’ she glared at him.
His mouth quirked. ‘I won’t.’
‘Then let me say I don’t appreciate your prying into my bathroom cabinet. The medicine chest is next to it,’ she snapped.
‘And the scissors were conspicuous in their absence,’ he pointed out softly.
She remembered now, she had used them to cut a broken fingernail, and must have put them back in the wrong cabinet. ‘Well I don’t see that it’s any business of yours even if the razor had belonged to a man,’ she told him huffily.
Adam shrugged. ‘I’m a very possessive lover.’
‘You aren’t—’
‘Just as I expect you to be,’ he continued softly, his gaze compelling.
‘Being possessive didn’t do me much good while I was your wife,’ she reminded waspishly.
He shrugged. ‘I’ve already admitted what a lousy husband I was.’
‘And assured me you’re a fantastic lover!’ she derided harshly.
‘And very possessive,’ he nodded, his eyes narrowed. ‘Which means I want to know who would call you this time of night?’
She had hoped to divert him off the subject, she should have realised he wasn’t a man to be diverted. ‘A friend,’ she dismissed. ‘I—They work nights,’ she added desperately.
Adam frowned. ‘Is that supposed to explain why they would call at eleven-thirty at night?’
‘It goes on the company’s telephone bill?’ she suggested with a grimace for her inadequacy at lying.
‘Not good enough, Leonie,’ he shook his head. ‘I want to know—’ he broke off as the telephone began to ring again, picking up the receiver before Leonie had a chance to do so.
Leonie paled, knowing that the person on the other end of the line wouldn’t realise from Adam’s silence that it wasn’t her he was talking to. She could guess what Adam’s reaction was going to be.
‘That’s very interesting,’ he suddenly ground out fiercely. ‘Now let me tell you what I’d like to do to you—’ his teeth snapped together as the caller obviously rang off, slamming his own receiver down with suppressed violence. ‘How long has this been going on?’ he demanded to know.
She pulled a face, knowing she couldn’t evade answering him. ‘Ever since I moved in here.’
‘And how long is that?’
She shrugged. ‘Six months or so.’
Adam’s mouth compressed into a thin line. ‘And is he always so—so—’
‘Obscene?’ she finished with a grimace. ‘I think that’s how those sort of calls got their name!’
She knew exactly what Adam would have heard when he picked up the telephone, had heard the same revolting filth only minutes earlier. The first time she had received such a call she had felt so sick she was almost physically ill, had felt so threatened she had moved into a hotel for the night. The second time she had been angry, so angry she called the police. They sent someone round to talk to her, but in the end all they could advise was that she change her telephone number. But the calls had still continued. She still felt sick at the disgusting things he said to her each week, but she no longer felt threatened, was sure after all this time that whoever he was he preferred to violate her over the telephone, that he wouldn’t actually come to her home and carry out the things he threatened.
‘Have you done anything about it?’ Adam grated, the nerve pulsing in his jaw telling of his anger.
Leonie sighed. ‘I’ve changed my telephone number twice, but it’s made no difference.’
Adam frowned. ‘He got your new number both times?’
She nodded. ‘Even though they’re unlisted.’
‘How often does he call?’ Adam’s eyes were narrowed.
‘Every Fr
iday night at eleven-thirty,’ she sighed. ‘There’s nothing we can do, Adam, and as long as he stays on the other end of that telephone I can cope with it. Actually, he’s getting a little boring now,’ she grimaced. ‘His fantasy seems to be stuck in a groove.’
‘I heard,’ Adam rasped.
‘Interesting idea, isn’t it,’ she dismissed with bravado. ‘I’ve told him I think we could do ourselves a mischief, but he—’
‘Leonie!’ Adam cautioned tightly. ‘Can’t you take anything seriously?’
‘I thought you always liked my sense of humour!’
‘Not about something like this,’ he said grimly, his hands thrust into his denims pockets. ‘The man’s a damned fruit-cake, how can you make jokes about it!’
‘How?’ her voice cracked emotionally. ‘I’ll tell you how! Because every Friday night I live in dread of those calls, and every Friday night at eleven-thirty he calls without fail. In a way it’s a relief when he does call, at least then I can relax for another week. You see, I have a theory,’ her voice was shrill. ‘That while he continues to call he won’t actually come here.’
‘You think he knows where you live?’ Adam frowned.
‘I would say it’s a logical assumption,’ she nodded. ‘If he can get my telephone number three times he can certainly get my address!’
‘Then you can’t stay here,’ Adam decided arrogantly.
‘Oh but I can,’ she told him. ‘I thought about moving, but don’t you see,’ she reasoned at his furious expression, ‘I’m as safe here as I can be anywhere. This man obviously has the means at his fingertips to find out anything he wants to know about me. If I move he’ll know that too, so why go through the bother of it?’ She shrugged.
‘Then you can’t stay here alone,’ Adam told her grimly.
‘Are you offering your services as bodyguard, Adam?’ she mocked.
‘And if I were?’
She shook her head. ‘I don’t need, or want, a live-in lover.’
‘Have you been to the police about this?’
‘There’s nothing they can do. The man doesn’t threaten me, he just talks dirty!’
‘He talks about violating you!’
‘And do you realise how many obscene telephone calls are received and reported each year? I can tell you that it’s thousands,’ she said wearily. ‘The police don’t have enough people to follow up on all of them. They asked me all the usual questions, did I know of anyone who would want to do this to me, did I recognise his voice? I don’t, and I didn’t! It’s all I can do to stop myself being sick when he calls. Now can we drop the subject, hm?’ she said brittlely.
Lovers in the Afternoon Page 7