Living Together

by Carole Mortimer

  ‘That’s what I told her,’ Brent put in. ‘But she would insist on upsetting herself. I thought it better to bring her home and put her mind at rest.’

  Helen smiled. ‘That’s very kind of you, Brent. How are you? I haven’t seen you for some time.’

  ‘I’m very—’

  ‘I didn’t rush home so that the two of you could exchange pleasantries,’ Jenny cut in impatiently.

  ‘Calm down,’ Helen soothed. ‘Don’t upset yourself about the newspapers—they have to print something.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I’m not worried about it, Jenny,’ Helen assurred her. ‘Besides, the newspaper I saw wasn’t too bad. As Leon said, things that shocked a couple of years ago don’t always mean much now.’

  Jenny’s eyes widened. ‘You’ve spoken to Leon?’

  Helen blushed. ‘Not today. He said that a couple of days ago.’

  ‘When he asked you to marry him.’

  ‘Jenny!’ Helen protested, looking pointedly at Brent.

  He grinned. ‘Don’t mind me, I know it all. Jenny told me this morning—among other things.’

  Helen looked at the two of them, noticing a certain look about her cousin and an indulgent smile on Brent’s lips as he watched her every move. ‘Has something happened I should know about?’ she asked.

  Jenny blushed. ‘Well—’

  ‘I’ve asked her to marry me,’ Brent finished for her. ‘Actually I told her. Much less argument that way. She’s been very argumentative lately.’

  ‘I have? You’re the one who’s—’

  ‘Now don’t argue about that too,’ Helen ordered. ‘Just tell me whether or not you accepted.’

  ‘Well, of course I did,’ Jenny replied as if there had been no need for her to ask that question. ‘But that doesn’t mean he can—’

  ‘Be quiet, woman!’ Brent growled. ‘I don’t know why the hell I’ve let myself in for having you ordering me about day and night. I must be insane!’

  ‘Or in love,’ Helen suggested with a smile.

  He sighed. ‘That too. I gather Jenny told you what a bear I’ve been? It’s crazy to suddenly discover you’re in love with your own secretary.’

  ‘No more crazy than discovering you’re in love with your boss,’ Jenny told him cheekily.

  ‘Except that neither of us just discovered it,’ he said dryly.

  ‘So when are you going to get married?’ Helen asked excitedly.

  ‘I’m not—’

  ‘As soon as possible,’ Brent interrupted. ‘I’m not a boy to sit about waiting for my bride.’

  ’No one said you had to,’ his fiancée contradicted.

  He frowned at her. ‘I’m not having any of that either. We’ll get married first.’

  ‘I never knew you were so old-fashioned,’ Jenny teased.

  ‘There’s a lot you don’t know about me, but you will,’ he promised.

  ‘He’s given me the afternoon off,’ Jenny grinned at her cousin. ‘Isn’t that kind of him?’

  ‘Only so that you can buy a new dress for tonight when we go out to celebrate our engagement.’

  ‘Oh, I can’t go now,’ Jenny protested. ‘I have to stay here with Helen.’

  ‘You do not,’ Helen at once refused. ‘Just because of those stupid newspapers?’ she scoffed. ‘Don’t be silly!’

  ‘But—’

  ‘I agree with Brent, you’ve become very argumentative, Jenny. She’ll need a firm hand when you’re married,’ Helen advised him.

  He gave a throaty chuckle. ‘I’m looking forward to it!’

  Helen finally managed to persuade them that she would be all right here on her own and they went off to buy the dress and ring before going on to Brent’s flat. Helen refused their invitation to join them for dinner.

  She really meant it when she said the newspapers didn’t bother her; she was past caring about what, they had to say. She was older now, more hardened to anything they might have to say about her, and so when the doorbell rang just after nine and she presumed it to be a reporter who wouldn’t be put off by the telephone always being engaged, she felt no apprehension about talking to him. She would get rid of him, she wouldn’t be intimidated by anyone.

  She wrenched the door open, her mouth dropping open as she saw her visitor. ‘Leon…’ she trailed off lamely.

  He brushed past her into the flat. ‘In the flesh,’ he drawled.

  CHAPTER TEN

  SHE closed the door, running after him to find him already seated in the lounge. ‘What are you doing here?’ she demanded.

  ‘I did try to call you first but your phone—Ah,’ he picked up the receiver as it lay on the coffee-table, ‘no wonder I couldn’t get through!’

  ‘I didn’t mean here, Leon,’ Helen said impatiently. ‘I meant what are you doing in England? You’re supposed to be in America.’

  ‘Welcome home,’ he mocked. ‘I came home, my dear Helen, because I found out all hell had let loose over here. And by the look of that telephone they haven’t left you alone all day.’

  ‘No,’ she confirmed. ‘I thought you were one of them who had actually had the nerve to come here.’

  ‘You aren’t pleased to see me.’ It was a statement, not a question. ‘And I thought you’d need me. It felt good to think you needed me,’ he added bitterly.

  ‘I do need you. I just—’

  ‘You do?’ he pounced.

  ‘Not like that.’ She evaded the warmth in his eyes. ‘You had no need to come back. How did you find out what was going on?’

  ‘I called the flat to see if you’d actually left, and—’

  ‘But you told me to,’ she interrupted with a frown.

  ‘After great provocation, if I remember correctly. Anyway, Max told me what was happening over here. It was Sharon, of course.’

  ‘I presume so. “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned…"’ she quoted dryly.

  ‘She wasn’t scorned, damn her! Not enough to make her do something like this, anyway.’

  ‘Obviously she considered she was.’

  Leon watched her with narrowed assessing eyes. ‘None of this bothers you, does it? The publicity you feared so much isn’t even touching you,’ he said disgustedly.

  ‘Did you expect it to? Is that why you’re here, Leon, because you thought I would just fall into your arms?’

  He sprang to his feet. ‘You don’t know the half of it! I knew I shouldn’t have gone to the States, I should have stayed here and made love to you until you were senseless and couldn’t refuse when I asked you to marry me.’

  Helen looked away from the powerful magnetism of him in the fitted denims and blue sweat shirt. ‘Even then I would have refused you.’

  ‘Would you, by damn!’ he snapped. ‘There’s only one way to find out.’ He pulled her against him, arching her body to his hard contours. ‘I’m going to love you, Helen, if it’s the last thing I do.’

  ‘But, Leon—’

  ‘Don’t fight me, Helen, not now,’ he groaned against her throat. ‘I’ve been promising myself this all the way home. And you are home to me, darling, no matter where you are.’

  ‘Leon—’

  ‘No more talking.’ His lips passed lower to explore the hollow between her breasts.

  ‘I was only going to say that I have no intention of fighting you,’ she said huskily.

  He looked at her with dazed eyes. ‘You haven’t?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Are you serious?’ he asked disbelievingly.

  ‘Very. Are you going to refuse me again?’

  ‘Like hell I am!’ he growled, swinging her up into his arms and carrying her through to the bedroom. ‘I’ll only be that kind of fool once.’ He lowered her on to the bed, where he swiftly joined her, the narrowness of the single bed making their proximity very close indeed.

  If Michael had shown her all the depths of making love then Leon was determined to show her all the heights. She forgot Michael, forgot everything but Leon loving her
.

  Afterwards his head rested on her breasts as he gently kissed her soft creamy flesh. ‘Do you hate me?’ he asked huskily.

  ‘Oh no,’ she hastened to reassure him. She felt complete, a woman in the arms of the man she loved. It had been such sweet surrender, Leon giving of himself without reserve. ‘I could never hate you, Leon.’ She smoothed his blond hair, loving the firmness of his body pressed close against her in the aftermath of their love.

  He raised his head to look at her. ‘I didn’t hurt you?’ he asked gruffly.

  Far from hurting her he had bound her all the more to him with his gentleness and passion. Which was going to make it all the harder for her to give him up, as she surely had to. ‘You didn’t hurt me,’ she assured him. ‘You were wonderful, Leon. I—I can’t thank you enough.’ She could feel him shaking and suddenly realised he was laughing. ‘What’s so funny?’

  ‘You are, darling.’ He kissed her lightly on the lips to take the sting out of his words. ‘I’ve never had a woman thank me for making love to her,’ he explained with humour.

  ‘Then you should have done,’ Helen insisted. ‘You’re marvellous!’

  Leon moved to lean on his elbow, looking down at her. ‘You don’t really have anything to compare it with, darling. But I thank you, for being perfect, in every way,’ he said throatily.

  Helen blushed. ‘I didn’t disappoint you?’

  His answer was to give her another of those deep drugging kisses that sent pleasure coursing through her whole body. ‘You’re everything I ever want in a woman. I’m sorry our first time together had to be in anger, but next time it will be better.’

  ‘Next time?’

  ‘Mm,’ his lips travelled slowly over her throat, his tongue probing the hollows. ‘When would you like your next lesson?’

  ‘Now?’

  ‘Like I said two days ago, you’re a wanton,’ he growled.

  ‘Only with you, Leon, only with you.’

  ‘Thank God for that!’ Once again he drew her into a vortex of desire where only each other mattered.

  After her disastrous experience with Michael Leon’s physical love meant so much to her, so much more than she would ever be able to tell him. His love for her was completely selfless. He had shown her the heights, taken her into rapturous excitement and fulfilment. In his arms she was totally alive, become the woman to match his fire.

  ‘I wish I could stay here in your arms all night,’ Leon murmured. ‘Where is Jenny, anyway? Is she out with Matt?’

  ‘Brent. They’re getting married.’

  ‘Brent and Jenny are?’

  ‘Mm,’ Helen smiled. ‘Apparently they’ve been in love for years but neither of them dared admit it. Actually I think we may have helped bring them together. Jenny was upset for me this morning and Brent helped comfort her.’

  ‘He did a good job of it, by the look of things,’ Leon said dryly. ‘And talking of marriages…’

  ‘Yes?’ She could feel herself tensing for what was to come.

  ‘When are you going to marry me? We still have the licence and—’

  ’I’m not marrying you, Leon,’ she interrupted quietly.

  His expected reaction wasn’t long in coming. He sat up to stare down at her, his face ashen, his eyes a splash of golden colour in his paleness. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I think you know, Leon.’ She couldn’t meet the accusation in his eyes.

  ‘After what we’ve just shared, the pleasure we had, you still won’t marry me?’ he demanded to know. ‘That is what you’re saying, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes.’ She didn’t attempt to prevaricate.

  He gripped her shoulders and shook her hard. ‘You can’t mean this, Helen,’ he said dazedly. ‘I love you, I want to marry you. I just made you mine and you sure as hell made me yours. You can’t intend to walk away from that.’ He shook her again. ‘You can’t!’

  She had to walk away from him, she couldn’t weaken now. She forced a smile to her lips. ‘I did tell you how it would be, Leon.’

  ‘I know you told me,’ he said grimly. ‘But that was before—before you let me love you. You can’t expect me to go back to the States without you after tonight. I won’t go without you!’

  She shrugged off his hands, sliding off the bed to pull on her bathrobe. She saw the look of mockery that passed over his angry features at her action, but she refused to rise to his anger. ‘I didn’t say I wouldn’t come with you, I just said I wouldn’t marry you.’

  ‘I don’t want you under any other terms, you know that,’ Leon told her harshly, and stood up to pull on his clothes, having none of her modesty. ‘If you won’t be my wife you won’t be my anything. You used me, Helen,’ he accused bitterly. ‘I mistakenly thought we’d made love because we loved each other. How wrong could I be! Well, you’ve had your physical experience by an expert, how did you like it?’ he rasped.

  ‘I—’

  ‘Don’t you dare answer that!’

  ’I’m sorry,’ she whispered.

  ‘There are times when being sorry isn’t enough—and this is one of them. You knew I loved you and you used me!’ He slammed out of the bedroom.

  There was little of the lover about him when Helen followed him into the lounge. He paused at the door. ‘If there are any repercussions from tonight I trust you’ll let me know,’ he said coldly.

  Helen looked at him with startled eyes. ‘Repercussions?’

  ‘You aren’t that naïve. You could become pregnant, it often happens after what we’ve just done,’ he taunted.

  ‘A baby,’ she nodded, knowing it wasn’t even a possibillity. ‘I’ll let you know.’

  ‘Make sure you do. You may not want the child, but I would.’

  * * *

  Just living after that was an agony Helen couldn’t describe. With each passing day she became thinner, so that after six weeks she looked terrible.

  ‘Go to the doctor,’ Jenny encouraged worriedly.

  ‘What could he do?’ Helen asked moodily. ‘He can’t cure the sickness I have—no one can.’ Jenny had found her huddled in an armchair the day Leon had finally left her, and she had sobbed out the whole sorry story.

  ‘Except yourself. Leon’s dropped out of the social scene altogether, no one’s seen him for weeks. And although a doctor may not be able cure you he may be able to give you something to help you sleep and maybe something to get you to eat.’

  ‘I don’t need anything,’ Helen said tersely. ‘I feel fine.’

  ‘You look it!’ Jenny scorned.

  ‘Thanks!’

  ‘Well, have you taken a good look at yourself lately? You’re too thin, much too thin, and there are dark circles under your eyes where you aren’t sleeping. God, you’re just pining away for the man!’ Jenny finished in disgust.

  ‘I’m just tired,’ Helen said wearily. ‘So very tired. I don’t seem to have any energy.’

  ‘I’m not surprised! Do it for me, Helen. Go and see a doctor before you’re really ill.’

  In the end Helen agreed to go just to placate her cousin, although she was sure the doctor could do little for her. The poor man looked as weary as she felt, probably through overwork, although he listened patiently to her symptoms—if they could be called that.

  Helen had expected him to give her a prescription and dismiss her from his mind as well as his surgery, and his decision to give her a thorough examination came as something of a surprise to her.

  What he had to tell her at the end of that examination shocked her so much she had to sit down. She left the surgery in a daze, wandering aimlessly around one of the parks, never quite conscious of her surroundings.

  How she came to be outside Leon’s apartment block she had no idea, but suddenly she found herself there, staring at the building in shocked surprise. Being this close to him gave her an ache deep inside her body, an ache to be near him, to just see him.

  ‘Good evening, Mrs West.’

  She turned to see Max. Of course, Thursda
y was his evening off. ‘Hello,’ she said shyly. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Very well, thank you, madam. And you?’

  Helen felt sure he could see exactly how well she was—or wasn’t. ‘I’m well, too,’ she lied. ‘And Mr Masters, how is he?’

  ‘Not too good, I’m afraid.’

  ‘He isn’t well?’ she asked sharply.

  ‘He isn’t ill. He’s at home now, Mrs West. Why don’t you go up and see him? I’m sure he would like to see you.’

  Helen frowned. ‘Shouldn’t he be in Portugal filming?’

  Max nodded. ‘He should be. But he isn’t doing the film.’

  ‘You mean he broke his contract?’ Helen was horrified.

  ‘Not exactly. They’ve given him a couple of months to sort himself out.’

  ‘Sort himself out?’

  Max frowned, obviously undecided about talking of his employer. ‘Mr Masters has a problem,’ he finally admitted to her. ‘A drink problem.’

  Helen paled even more. She had done this to Leon, she knew it even without being told. And now she owed it to him to help him. He had been determined to help her, and now she owed him the same consideration.

  ‘He’s in his flat now?’ She came to her decision.

  ‘Yes, madam.’ Max looked relieved. ‘Are you going to see him?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Thank you, madam.’

  Helen was shaken by his humility, her smile not quite steady as she took her leave of him. She was so nervous when she arrived outside the flat that her hand shook as she rang the bell.

  The Leon who answered the door was nothing like the immaculate Leon she was accustomed to seeing; his hair was badly in need of cutting, lines of dissipation were grooved deeply beside his nose and mouth. The navy shirt and trousers looked as if he had slept in them, they were so badly creased. And she could see what Max meant by ‘a drink problem’. Leon had a tumblerful of whisky in his hand, and by the look of him it was far from being his first.

  ‘What the hell do you want?’ he demanded insultingly.

  ‘To come in?’ Helen suggested timidly.

  He threw open the door. ‘Oh, come in by all means,’ Leon said nastily, turning to re-enter the lounge. ‘What have you come here for, another lesson?’