Helen frowned. ‘Aren’t you going to get ready for work?’ Her cousin was still in her dressing-gown and it was already a quarter to nine.
Jenny grinned. ‘Brent’s given me the day off for being a good girl.’
‘Oh yes?’ Helen queried suggestively.
‘Now, now,’ Jenny chided, ‘I told you there’s nothing like that between Brent and me.’
Helen shrugged. ‘Things could have changed.’
‘Well, they haven’t. He gave me today off because I worked late Friday evening. Anyway, he’s away for the day.’
‘How the other half live,’ Helen said teasingly. ‘Well, this working girl is off to another hard day at the office.’
Jenny grinned. ‘My heart bleeds for you!’
Helen laughed. ‘I’ll bet! Say, perhaps you should marry Brent and then you could take days off all the time.’
‘Chance would be a fine thing,’ Jenny said ruefully.
‘Jen?’ Helen probed gently.
‘Just joking,’ she gave a bright smile. ‘You’re going to be late,’ she reminded her.
‘Jen, about Brent—’
‘We’re just good friends, as the saying goes. And likely to remain that way.’
‘But you would like to change the arrangement?’
Jenny bit her lip. ‘I’m not sure. Probably not. Let’s forget it.’
’But—’
‘I said forget it, Helen. Sorry,’ Jenny mumbled. ‘Touchy subject.’
‘If you ever feel like talking about it you know I’m always here,’ she told her cousin.
‘I know,’ Jenny smiled. ‘You’ll be out of a job if you don’t leave.’
‘Goodness, yes! See you later.’
Helen almost ran from the underground to the travel agency, but she was still late in, an unusual occurrence for her. Mr Walters gave her a disapproving look as she got in at nine-fifteen, looking no less annoyed even after she had apologised.
She quietly got on with her work, her thoughts drifting to the events of the weekend. It had been an uneventful time once Leon Masters had left, but that hadn’t stopped her thinking about him, of the things he had said to her. No matter how she denied it the things he had said to her had affected her, flattered her in a way. Leon Masters was an important man, a celebrity, and yet he was attracted to her.
‘That’s the wrong file for that, Mrs West.’ Mr Walters was at her elbow as she filed a letter in the wrong envelope. ‘Are you feeling quite well?’
‘Oh, oh yes.’ She took the letter out of the file. ‘I’m perfectly well, thank you.’
‘Then concentrate, Mrs West,’ he frowned. ‘There would have been utter confusion when we came to look for that confirmation.’
‘Yes, Mr Walters.’ She stifled a smile as Sally winked at her across the office.
The only male among six females, Mr Walters tended to be rather stand-offish and domineering, although he probably needed to be. It couldn’t be easy controlling so many females in one office.
Sally strolled over to her desk on the pretence of helping her file some invoices. ‘Have a nice weekend?’
’Not bad.’ She hadn’t mentioned to any of the girls that she had met Leon Masters the previous weekend and saw no reason to mention the fact that she had met him again. Besides, it seemed too incredible, even to her, that he had actually shown an interest in her. Film stars of his fame just didn’t enter the life of someone like her.
‘I had a great time,’ Sally mused. ‘Steve took me to meet his mother.’
‘Nice?’ Helen murmured.
‘Very. A bit possessive over Steve, perhaps, but I’ll soon change that,’ Sally said with certainty.
‘I wouldn’t be too sure of that,’ Helen warned. ‘Possessive mother-in-laws can’t be changed.’ She knew that from experience! Michael’s mother had never been able to see any wrong in her son.
‘Oh, I’m not aiming to change her,’ Sally said happily. ‘Steve and I will be emigrating once we’re married. Most of my family are in Australia now that my mother and father are dead.’
‘How does Steve feel about the move?’
Sally grinned. ‘He doesn’t know yet. But he’ll agree, I’m sure of it. My sister will be able to arrange for a house for us and get Steve a job with her husband’s company.’
‘You’ve got it all worked out, haven’t you?’ commented Helen.
‘It will save arguments.’
‘I wish you luck,’ Helen said dryly. Sally might feel quite confident about her plans, but she didn’t think it was going to be as easy as that.
‘Mrs West?’ She looked up to see Mr Walters. ‘Far be it from me to complain,’ he continued sarcastically, ‘but you were late in this morning, and have spent the time since talking. Would it be too much to ask for you to actually do some work today?’
‘Sorry,’ Helen mumbled.
She did in fact get on with her work after that. It was a dead end job, but in a way she enjoyed it. The girls were all good company, with none of the bitchiness existing in this office that often occurred when several women worked together, and even Mr Walters had been known to let his hair down on occasion, joining in the odd joke.
‘I tell you it is him,’ Katy whispered.
‘Don’t be ridiculous,’ Sue said equally softly. ‘What would he want in a travel agency? Any travelling he did he certainly wouldn’t arrange for himself, he’d have a secretary to do things like that.’
‘But I’m sure it’s him,’ Katy insisted. ‘I saw one of his films only last week, and I’d recognise him anywhere.’
By this time their hushed conversation had penetrated Helen’s concentration. She had been working solidly since Mr Walters’ reprimand and was only now beginning to feel the faint stirrings of hunger for her lunch; she usually left about one o’clock and it was nearly that now.
But Katy and Sue’s whispering had broken in on her train of thought and she looked over to the front desk to their source of conversation. All the colour drained from her face as she recognised Leon Masters. Wearing a black leather jerkin and light tan shirt and trousers, he looked vitally attractive, his hair almost silver.
Her breath caught in her throat as his tawny gaze levelled on her, and she hurriedly turned away. What was he doing here? It couldn’t be just coincidence. But how had he found out where she worked? What did he want? Her thoughts were racing in her panic. She had thought he would leave her alone after Saturday, had hoped he would leave her alone. She looked at him again as he engaged in conversation with Mr Walters, wondering what he wanted.
‘What do you think, Helen?’ Katy leant over to her desk.
She looked at the other girl blankly. ‘Sorry?’
‘Is it Leon Masters or isn’t it?’ Katy said impatiently.
Helen swallowed hard. ‘It—’
‘Mrs West,’ Mr Walters called her over, ‘this gentleman would like a word with you.’
From the angry inflection in his voice she would say Mr Walters hadn’t recognised Leon. He would certainly have been different in his attitude if he had.
She stood up, selfconscious about the curious stares of the other girls. Sally had already left for her lunch, but Helen had no doubt the other girls would soon tell her of Leon’s visit when she returned to the office.
‘What do you want?’ she demanded of him in an angry whisper. ‘We aren’t supposed to have visitors here.’
Leon looked unperturbed. ‘I came to take you out to lunch, not visit you.’
‘Oh, but—’
‘And don’t say you’ve already been to lunch, because I know you haven’t, I asked your boss. Besides,’ he grinned, ‘Jenny said you never go to lunch before one,’ he looked at his gold wrist-watch, ‘and it’s just that now, so if you’re ready?’
‘Jenny told you where I worked?’
‘I went round to the flat, forgetting you would be at work, and she sent me on here. Now don’t be angry with her, she only told me because I told her I wanted to a
pologise to you.’
Helen scowled. ‘You could have done that over the telephone.’
‘Lunch would be so much nicer. Get your coat,’ he ordered.
‘I will not! I—’
‘Get it, Helen,’ he commanded softly. ‘You surely don’t want to cause a scene here?’
‘I’m not going to cause a scene.’
‘No,’ he smiled, ‘but I am.’
She raised her eyebrows derisively. ‘Over a little office girl?’
‘Over a very beautiful but stubborn woman,’ he corrected. ‘I think I could stand the publicity, can you?’
Helen gave him an angry glare before collecting her lightweight jacket, not looking at anyone as she left with him, embarrassed beyond words.
‘Why did you have to do that?’ she groaned once they were outside. ‘They’ll all be agog with curiosity when I get back.’
Leon took her elbow in a firm grasp. ‘Worry about that later.’
‘It’s all right for you to say that. You—’ She stopped as she saw he was directing her towards a gold-coloured Porsche parked on a double yellow line. ‘Where are you taking me?’
He opened the car door for her. ‘I told you, lunch. Get in, Helen, there’s a good girl. There’s a menacing-looking policeman making his way over here.’
She gave him a sweet smile of sarcasm. ‘I’m sure you could manage to charm your way out of it.’
‘Maybe.’ He pushed her inside the car before going round the other side and getting in himself. ‘But I don’t intend wasting any time trying.’ He manoeuvred the car into the flow of traffic.
‘That remark you made just now,’ Helen said tentatively. ‘What did you mean by it?’
He gave her a fleeting glance. ‘Which remark?’
‘About the publicity.’
Leon shrugged his broad shoulders. ‘I don’t mind it being known I’m attracted to a very lovely lady.’
Helen sighed. ‘I didn’t mean you, I meant what did you mean by asking if I could stand the publicity?’ She gave him a searching look, but could tell nothing from his expression.
He frowned. ‘I thought may be you wouldn’t like me to cause trouble at your place of work.’
’Is that all?’ she probed suspiciously.
They were heading out of town now and Leon turned to look at her momentarily. ‘What else could I have meant?’
Helen evaded those searching tawny eyes. ‘You tell me.’
He shook his head. ‘I have no idea.’
‘You—you really don’t know?’
‘Know what, for God’s sake?’ he demanded impatiently. ‘Do you have some murky secret in your past that you don’t want people to know about?’ he teased.
Helen drew a ragged breath. ‘Don’t joke about it, Leon.’
‘You mean you do have a secret?’
‘It wasn’t such a secret a couple of years ago, and I just couldn’t bear for it all to be raked up again.’
‘For what to be raked up? Come on, Helen, you might as well tell me now you’ve gone this far.’
Her hands twisted nervously together in her lap. ‘My—my husband was Michael West.’ She looked at him searchingly, watching for the recognition, for the disgust.
‘So? What does—Michael West?’ he queried softly.
She bowed her head. ‘Yes.’
‘Of West Hotels?’
‘That’s his father, actually.’
‘You were married to Mike West?’ He sounded incredulous.
‘Yes,’ she admitted chokingly.
‘Then you must be—’
‘I’m the girl who married him, lived with him for only two days before walking out, and was called a fortune-hunter by the press for weeks afterwards.’
CHAPTER THREE
‘BUT you can’t be!’ Leon denied, glancing at her again.
She gave a bitter smile. ‘But I am.’
‘You’re the girl who stayed with him just long enough to consummate the marriage? The girl everyone said had only married him for what she could get out of the divorce settlement?’
Helen bit her bottom lip to stop it shaking. ‘That’s right.’
Leon gave her a scathing look. ‘I don’t believe you. You’re making this up. What are you, some sort of sensation-seeker?’ he rasped.
‘I’m telling you the truth, Leon,’ she said quietly.
‘No!’ he snapped. ‘You can’t be. That girl isn’t you. You aren’t like that at all.’
She gave a wan smile. ‘You’re only the second person to see that I’m just not capable of such subterfuge, and for that I thank you.’
‘The second person?’
‘Jenny has always believed in me too.’
He frowned. ‘You mean you really were married to Mike West?’
‘I really was.’ She met his gaze unflinchingly.
‘My God!’ he breathed softly.
‘So now you can see why I don’t want to be seen with you. Whatever you do, whoever you see, it’s news. If the press saw me with you they wouldn’t stop probing until they’d unearthed the fact that I was married to Michael, and the whole thing would be dragged up again. I would be hounded, and I couldn’t take that. And it wouldn’t do you much good either.’
‘But if you’re Mike’s widow why do you work?’
’Have you forgotten the fact that Michael was killed in a road accident only four months after we were married? I didn’t have time to divorce him and claim all that money the press said I wanted. His money was left to his parents in his will. I received only a token amount, enough not to work if I didn’t want to, but certainly not a fortune.’
‘I still don’t believe it,’ he said firmly.
‘That I was married to Michael, or that I could do the things they said I did?
‘Either of them. I met Mike West a couple of times—he was like a spoilt child, into every vice going,’ he added disgustedly. ‘You couldn’t have married someone like him.’
‘But I did.’ And paid for it in a thousand different ways! she thought. She noticed for the first time that they were heading back to town. ‘Where are we going now?’
‘Back to my apartment,’ he told her tersely. ‘We have to talk this thing out, and I would rather do it in privacy.’
‘I can’t.’ Helen looked at her wrist-watch. ‘I have to get back to work, my lunch-hour is nearly up.’
‘Say you’ve been taken ill.’
She shook her head. ‘Mr Walters would guess I wasn’t.’
‘Okay, so you lose your job,’ he snapped. ‘You just said that you’re rich enough not to have to work.’
‘I am,’ she said stiffly. ‘But I enjoy the work, I enjoy seeing other people. I realise what I’ve told you must have come as something of a shock to you—but believe me when I say I wouldn’t want to involve you in my scandalous past. I did try to put you off, but you just wouldn’t take the hint. Now, if you’ll just drop me off at work we’ll forget we ever met, or that we had this conversation.’
‘Like hell we will!’ His knuckles showed white as he gripped the steering-wheel tightly. ‘We’re going to talk this thing out, as I said we would.’
‘No!’ she refused sharply. ‘I—I can’t talk about it, not to anyone. And you shouldn’t get involved with me, not even temporarily.’
‘I’ll make my own decision about that—when we’ve talked.’
Helen swallowed hard. ‘You’re a very determined man, Leon, but even determination can’t change my past.’
‘I’ll decide about your past when I know more about the facts,’ he said grimly. ‘And if you won’t talk about it now we’ll talk about it tonight, over dinner.’
‘I told you, you shouldn’t be seen with me.’
‘If it makes you any happier we’ll eat at my apartment.’ It didn’t make her any happier, and her trepidation must have shown. ‘Don’t worry, my cool Helen,’ he taunted, ‘my manservant will act as chaperone.’
‘Talking won’t change a thing,�
�� she mumbled.
‘Maybe not, but it might help me understand.’
‘How I came to be a money-grasping little bitch?’ she scorned. ‘That’s what Michael’s mother called me in the newspapers,’ she told him bitterly.
‘Mothers tend not to see any wrong in their children,’ Leon said dryly.
‘Do they?’ Her voice sounded hollow.
‘So I believe. Will you come tonight?’ he asked gently, the Porsche once more parked on the double yellow lines near the travel agency.
She sighed. ‘As long as once we’ve talked you just forget you ever knew me, or that I was married to Michael.’
His hand moved out to caress her cheek, dropping away as she flinched. His eyes narrowed. ‘I won’t promise you anything. I want to know the truth and you’re going to tell it to me, with no promises on either side.’
Helen licked her suddenly dry lips. ‘You’re asking a lot,’ she quivered, not knowing whether she was up to discussing the past, whether she could take the pain involved in remembering.
‘All I’m asking from you is honesty.’ Leon gave a derisory smile. ‘I thought we had agreed that honesty was something we could give each other.’
She vividly remembered the last time she had given him complete honesty and knew that he remembered it too. ‘Very well, Mr Masters, I’ll have dinner with you,’ she gave in wearily.
‘Leon,’ he prompted softly. ‘It’s been Leon for the last hour.’
‘Yes,’ she acknowledged breathlessly, pushing open the door. ‘I—I’ll see you later.’ She got out of the car, anxious to get away from him.
He leant over the seat. ‘Seven-thirty, okay?’
‘Make it eight,’ she said jerkily, already regretting agreeing to have dinner with him. ‘I have to get home and change.’
‘Eight o’clock,’ he nodded mockingly, aware of her ploy to spend less time with him. ‘Be ready.’
As she had surmised, the girls were all curious to know if it really had been Leon Masters. Helen denied this, not wanting anyone to know they had met. These things had a way of leaking out.
‘It certainly looked like him,’ Katy said moodily, obviously not convinced. And who could blame her; Leon’s attraction was unique!
‘There may have been some similarity,’ Helen agreed with a pretended degree of thought. ‘But that’s all it was.’
Living Together Page 4