by Anne Mather
‘You were?’
Heather looked intrigued now, and, realising she was in danger of starting rumours she would rather not have to deal with, Beth quickly explained. ‘He’s come to talk about Linda,’ she said, pushing back her chair and getting rather stiffly to her feet. ‘Oh—and do you think you could bring us some tea?’
Heather looked rather less enthusiastic about this request, but her curiosity evidently got the better of her. ‘Tea as in cups, or on a tray?’ she enquired, opening the door again. Then, raising her hand defensively, ‘All right. On a tray.’ She glanced behind her. ‘You can go in, Mr Thiarchos. Miss Haley will see you now.’
He was wearing casual clothes: a dark blue polo shirt, and close-fitting dark blue chinos. It was the first time she had seen him in casual clothes since the night of the party. At the funeral, and later, at Mrs Adams’s house, he had been wearing a suit. The same suit, if she remembered correctly. Dark, and severe, and very different from what he was wearing now. It brought back a flood of memories, unwelcome memories, that she was trying to forget. Memories of him tearing off his shirt and jeans, and exposing his lean, muscled body. Memories of him coming down on the bed beside her, and of the hot, hard length of him inside her…
She bent her head for a moment, struggling to control her wayward senses. This wouldn’t do, she told herself. How could she help Linda, or herself, if she allowed his appearance to upset her? He was only a man, for heaven’s sake. And she had been dealing with men all her adult life. Successfully, too, until this moment—including that traumatic night in London.
Lifting her head, she forced her features into a polite mask. ‘Mr Thiarchos,’ she said, gesturing towards the chair at the other side of the desk. ‘Won’t you sit down?’
Much to her relief he did, crossing one ankle over his knee, and resting one hand on the junction. His other hand hung loosely over the arm of the chair, and, were it not for the hostile glitter of his eyes, she’d have thought he was perfectly relaxed.
But he said nothing, and, realising he was leaving it to her to choose the direction their conversation was to take, she gripped the desk and lowered herself into her seat.
‘You’ve come to talk about Linda, of course,’ she said, striving for an informal detachment, and one dark brow lifted. He was very dark, she thought unwillingly. Would her baby be as dark as he was, when it was born?
‘Have I?’
His response was not what she had expected, and she swallowed. ‘Well—haven’t you?’ she ventured. ‘I understood she had left a message for you at Reception.’
Alex’s eyes were disturbingly intent. ‘My daughter-in-law did leave a message to the effect that you wanted to see me,’ he conceded. ‘You say it’s to talk about Linda. I say we have other matters to discuss.’
‘What—other matters?’ Beth’s throat felt unbearably dry. ‘I doubt anything’s more important than how Linda feels at the moment. She’s a very mixed-up young woman, Mr Thiarchos, and—’
‘Alex,’ he interrupted her abruptly, and she had the feeling he hadn’t listened to a word she was saying. ‘The name’s Alex,’ he repeated, regarding her with cold dispassion. ‘It’s a little late for you to start calling me Mr Thiarchos, isn’t it—Liz?’
‘Beth,’ she corrected him hurriedly. ‘I’m called Beth. I’d rather you used that name, if you insist on the informality. But I’ll call you Mr Thirachos, if you don’t mind? It wouldn’t be wise for us to be seen to be—to be—too familiar.’
‘As in lovers?’ he suggested scornfully, and her eyes sped anxiously to the door. Heather could come back with the tea at any time, and she dreaded to think of the gossip, if the secretary should overhear something like that.
‘We—we were not lovers,’ she declared, in a horrified undertone. ‘And I’d be grateful if you wouldn’t make such outrageous statements here! I’ve agreed to talk to you on Linda’s behalf, but that’s all. Now, can we stick to the real reason you’ve come here, and try to sort things out for her sake?’
‘You condescending bitch!’ Alex’s expression had hardened ominously, and Beth knew the first real taste of fear. ‘What if I tell you I don’t give a damn about how Linda feels? My son’s dead! I have to deal with that. I’m only here because of our relationship.’
Beth quivered. ‘We—don’t have a relationship,’ she insisted steadily, though his harsh words had robbed her of all strength. ‘Mr Thiarchos—please; I don’t want this to go any further. If—if your son was still alive, we’d never have seen one another again.’
‘Yes, you made damn sure of that, didn’t you?’ he snarled, and any hope she had had of keeping this conversation civil went out the window. She should not have let Linda persuade her to speak to him, she thought weakly. She should have remembered how angry he had been after the funeral.
‘Tea up,’ carolled Heather, sailing into the room without knocking, and watching her, as she put the tray on the desk, Beth tried to gauge if she had heard anything she shouldn’t. But what could she have heard? she reflected bitterly, managing a tight smile of thanks. Only that Alex Thiarchos was angry, and she must think that that was understandable, in the circumstances.
‘Can I get you anything else?’
Heather seemed disposed to linger now, her eyes resting on Beth’s visitor with evident admiration. To his credit, Alex Thiarchos did nothing to encourage her interest, other than get politely to his feet at her entrance. A courtesy that Heather approved of, judging by the warm smile she cast in his direction. But Beth felt a surge of resentment towards both of them, and her tone was barely civil when she made a curt disclaimer.
‘I’ll go, then,’ said Heather, her expression mirroring her disappointment as she flounced towards the door. ‘If you need any more hot water, you’ll have to get it yourself, Beth. I’m leaving in five minutes. I’ve got a dental appointment.’
Her flare of spite was almost a relief to Beth, reflecting, as it did, her curiosity about the visitor. Beth felt sure, if she had heard something untoward, she would have used it. In some ways, Heather was very transparent.
The door closed behind her with a decided bang, and in other circumstances Beth would have shared her amusement with Alex. But there was nothing amusing about the present situation, and she didn’t think his decision not to resume his seat meant that the worst was over.
Trying to concentrate on the tray she had drawn towards her, Beth endeavoured not to feel threatened when Alex walked across the room to the window. The fact that the long windows were partly behind her desk was only incidental, she told herself. But her hand trembled anyway as she attempted to pour the tea.
‘M-milk and sugar?’ she enquired, annoyed to hear the tremor in her voice, and Alex half turned, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets.
‘Neither,’ he said shortly, and at her startled look, ‘I don’t want any tea.’ Then, less aggressively, ‘For God’s sake, Beth, why did you do it?’
She didn’t insult him by pretending not to understand what he was talking about, but it was difficult to find a convincing answer all the same. ‘It was a—a spur-of-the-moment thing,’ she said, which wasn’t totally untrue. ‘I didn’t know how it would turn out, did I? It—it was just one of those things.’
‘No.’
His denial was flat, and uncompromising, and to give herself time to think she pretended not to understand. ‘Yes, it was,’ she said quickly. ‘These things—happen. I’m sure it’s not the first time a—a woman’s—’
‘Made a pass? Seduced me?’ he supplied, when it became obvious she didn’t know how to go on. ‘Well, believe it or not, it was the first time a woman’s come on to me so—expressively. You were hot, Beth. Believe me, I remember. What doesn’t make any sense is why you did it. Were you really so desperate to lose your virginity?’
‘Stop it!’ Beth couldn’t bear for him to talk about what had happened so unemotionally, so clinically. ‘All right. So I did behave badly. It must have been the drinks I’d h
ad. I hardly ever touch alcohol—’
‘No.’ His denial was just as inflexible as before, and her heart hammered painfully against her ribs. ‘If anyone suffered the effects of alcohol it was me, not you. And it wasn’t an accident, Beth. It was planned. Down to the finest detail.’
Beth had been about to lift her cup to her lips, but now she pushed it violently away. She was trembling so much, she was sure she’d spill at least half of it over herself, and she musn’t let him see how upset she was.
‘Well?’ he prompted at last, removing his hands from his pockets, and coming to rest them squarely on her desk. ‘Don’t you think I deserve an explanation? Or do you think you have the right to violate a man’s body at will?’
‘Vi—violate?’ Beth lifted her head to look at him incredulously. That he should used that word, her word. ‘I didn’t violate you!’
‘Didn’t you?’ His eyes were dark and unfathomable, twin pools of sable opacity. ‘Well, what would you call drugging a man with strong spirits, and then taking advantage of his weakness? If I’d done that to you, Beth, what would you have called it then?’
Beth dragged her eyes away from his, and looked down at her hands, torturously clasped on the desk in front of her. ‘That’s different.’
‘How is it different?’
‘You know it is.’ Her voice almost broke, and she had to steel herself to go on. ‘Look—all right. I’m sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t have let it happen. But it did. It’s over. There’s nothing I can do about it.’
‘Yes, there is, dammit,’ he swore angrily. ‘You can tell me what the hell you did it for. Did someone bribe you? Did someone force you to do it? Is someone else behind this?’
Beth’s breath escaped on a sob. ‘Hardly.’
‘What do you mean, hardly? Either they are or they aren’t.’ Alex grasped her chin with his hard fingers and forced her to look up at him. ‘Answer me, dammit! It’s not as crazy as you think.’
‘It is crazy!’ she exclaimed, pushing his hand away. ‘And don’t do that. Don’t touch me. I don’t have to tell you anything.’
‘Oh, yes, you do.’ Alex’s mouth was a grim line. ‘Unless you want me to make things very difficult for you around here, I suggest you think again.’
Beth held up her head. ‘You can’t threaten me.’
‘Can’t I?’
‘No.’ And then, as he still looked sceptical, she continued, ‘I’m leaving at the end of this term. I shan’t be returning to Sullem Cross after the summer holidays.’
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘Where are you going then?’
Beth gasped. ‘Do you think I’d tell you?’ And then, as the realisation that he couldn’t hurt her washed over her, she added, ‘My plans are not for publication. Now, shall we begin again?’
‘All right.’ Alex straightened. ‘You want to talk about Linda, we’ll talk about Linda. Go ahead.’
His sudden capitulation should have reassured her, but it didn’t. It had been too quick, too easy. And there was something about his eyes, about his expression, that left her with the uneasy feeling that the worst wasn’t over yet.
But, ‘Won’t you sit down again?’ she invited, feeling far too intimidated with him looming over her. ‘Perhaps you’ll change your mind about the tea. It’s still hot.’
Alex’s expression didn’t change, but he walked round the desk again, and sat down. ‘No tea,’ he declared, resuming his previous position. ‘Don’t you have any Chivas Regal hidden in your cupboard?’
Beth felt the heat invade her throat and was glad the blouse she was wearing had a high neck. But he wasn’t going to disconcert her again, she thought determinedly. Even if his deliberate mockery left her feeling raw.
‘About Linda,’ she said, running her fingers along the sides of the papers she had been reading, and shuffling them into a neater pile, ‘she says you want her to meet Tony’s grandfather.’
The fleeting glance she cast in his direction caught the momentary spasm of pain that crossed his dark face at her words, but his response was as cool and unemotional as before. ‘My father, yes,’ he said. ‘He lives on the coast, just south of Athens.’
‘Yes.’ Beth moistened her lips, desperately wishing this were over. When she had conceived the—some might say crazy—notion, to get pregnant, she had never envisaged a situation like this. She had never expected to see the man again, much less find herself having to justify someone else’s actions to him. As well as her own, she conceded silently, wishing she could be as dispassionate as he was. ‘Well, that’s the problem. Linda doesn’t feel she can go to Greece right now.’
‘Doesn’t she?’
His response was hardly what she had expected, but she was learning not to take what he said at face value. She had the uncomfortable feeling he was just playing with her at the moment, and for all her brave defiance she still felt apprehensive.
And, when he made no attempt to elaborate, she felt obliged to try and explain Linda’s feelings. ‘I think—I think she’s got a lot on her mind at the moment,’ she offered. ‘I mean, aside from everything else, there’s her exams.’
‘She doesn’t have to take them.’
Alex’s response was flat and unemotional, but Beth didn’t miss the resolution behind it. He wasn’t questioning her judgement. He wasn’t even denying Linda’s state of mind. But he expected his will to prevail in the end.
Drawing a breath, she set the papers she had been fidgeting with aside, and as she did so her gaze settled on the cup of tea, congealing on the tray. It had obviously gone cold. There was even a little slick of grease across its surface, as if the milk Heather had given her hadn’t been entirely fresh. It certainly didn’t look drinkable. In fact, it looked quite disgusting. And as the perspiration beaded on her forehead she felt the familiar queasiness in her stomach.
Oh, not now, she thought sickly, pushing the tray aside, and trying to get her mind back on track. She couldn’t be sick now. Not with Alex Thiarchos watching her so closely. After all, he was a father—how many times over, she had no idea. He could, conceivably, recognise the symptoms. What would she do if he guessed what was wrong with her?
‘Are you all right?’
His question caught her unawares, and she gripped the edge of her desk with both hands. The carved indentations in the wood dug into her fingers, and she prayed the pain she was deliberately inflicting on herself would make the nausea go away.
‘I’m—fine,’ she managed, after a moment, though she doubted he believed her. ‘Um—what do you mean, Linda doesn’t have to take her exams? She does if she wants to get her degree.’
Alex looked as if he would have preferred to pursue his previous question, but he let her get away with it. ‘She can take the exams next year, if it’s so important to her,’ he responded dismissively. ‘But she is my son’s widow, Miss Haley.’ His lips twisted. ‘As such, she will have no need to support herself.’
Beth felt the sickness receding, and relaxed her hands a little. ‘I’m sure you know that Linda wants nothing from you—’ she began, but he didn’t let her finish.
‘Unfortunately, she does not have a choice,’ he declared harshly, his eyes no less intent. ‘My mother chose to make Tony her heir. As his widow, Linda will receive the income from the trust she left to his children.’
Beth was stunned. ‘Does—does Linda know this?’
Alex shrugged. ‘I tried to tell her in London. She wouldn’t listen. I suggest you make it clear to her. It’s not going to go away.’
Beth shook her head. ‘I didn’t know.’
‘No. I guessed not.’ Alex uncrossed his legs, and came to his feet again in a lithe easy motion. ‘So—I suggest we get out of here, and go some place where we can talk about it. It’s obvious you’re not feeling well, and I think we could both use some fresh air.’
Beth gazed up at him, aghast. ‘I—I can’t do that.’
‘You can, if you want me to go easy on my new daughter-in-law.’
Beth
caught her breath. ‘But—that’s blackmail!’
Alex looked down at her. ‘Want to call me on it?’
Beth looked away. ‘No.’
‘That’s what I thought.’ Alex came round the desk, and put his hand beneath her elbow to assist her to her feet. ‘Come on, you can show me where you really live. And I don’t mean that sleazy apartment in London that you rented in an assumed name.’
CHAPTER FIVE
BETH didn’t want to take Alex to her house, but she didn’t really have a choice. Short of causing the kind of scene she most wanted to avoid, she was obliged to do as he had suggested. But she didn’t know what he wanted with her; why he couldn’t just leave well enough alone. He knew who she was now. He knew where she worked and where she lived. He knew everything about her. Everything except perhaps the most important thing, she acknowledged tensely. But dear God, that wasn’t even on his agenda, so what did he want from her now?
He agreed to follow her from the university, and she was aware of the silver-grey Mercedes close behind her as she drove home. She thought of trying to give him the slip. Her pulses raced at the idea. In the maze of one-way streets around the small market town, she was sure she could get away from him. But what good would that do? she asked herself wearily. He had only to park outside her home. Sooner or later, she was bound to come back.
It was late afternoon when they arrived at Albert Terrace. The trees across the square were casting long shadows over the pavement, and already there were children playing on the grass. A couple of dogs ran, barking noisily, past the car, as she gathered her belongings, and, getting out, locked the door. Everything looked normal, she thought despairingly. Only she knew it wasn’t.
Yet, as Alex parked his car behind hers, and slid out from behind the wheel, her stomach clenched in sudden anticipation. She looked down at her feet as she stepped up on to the kerb, to avoid his all too knowing eyes, but the awareness she felt in his presence just wouldn’t go away. Had she really seduced this man? she wondered disbelievingly. Had she really flirted with him, and teased him, and made him want her so much that he had been prepared to risk anything to have her? Had she really gone to bed with him, and let him do to her all the things she had hitherto convinced herself she would never permit? How had she done it? How had she found the courage to achieve such a thing? And with a man like Alex Thiarchos, moreover; a man probably well-versed in the ways of women.