There was a soft laughter. 'Come down to the bar and have a drink with me, Leigh.'
'I've just got out of the shower,' she said tightly. 'I'm afraid I shan't be dressed for some time. Goodbye.'
She had not expected him to accept her refusal, but to her surprise the phone went dead. She looked at it, then shrugged and went back into the bathroom. Finishing the process of drying herself, she slipped into a loose white wrap and began to lay out her clothes on the bed. When the door opened she turned, her heart in her mouth, and looked across the room at him with a stunned apprehension.
'Get out,' she said shakily. 'Get out before I ring the hotel management.'
'You left your door on the latch,' he said softly. 'I thought you meant me to come in.'
She remembered then that she had done so when she first came in because the floor maid had said she wanted to take away the contents of the waste paper basket, and Leigh did not want to have to leave the shower to let her into the room. But she gave him a frigid look. 'You knew perfectly well I wasn't expecting you.'
'Then you're more stupid than I'd thought, because the moment you told me you were just out of the shower you must have known it would bring me up here,' he said audaciously, taking her breath away.
'Why, you...'
'You said it deliberately,' he murmured, his grey eyes moving slowly down the length of her body. 'My God, Leigh, even my vivid imagination hadn't conjured up the way you look now.'
She backed, her eyes held by the darkening insistence of his stare. 'No,' she said weakly as he reached her.
'Yes, Leigh,' he whispered under his breath as his hands moved towards her.
She shuddered, backing, and overbalanced as the back of her knees met the edge of the bed. She fell, a cry of fear on her lips, and he joined her, holding her half naked body under him by the weight of his own. For a few seconds they stared at each other. Her breathing was erratic and painful. Then he made a rough sound under his breath and began to kiss her, and all rational thought vanished from her head.
She was so dazed by the hot pressure of his long kisses that she did not even notice when he shrugged out of his jacket and threw his tie down on to the floor. Her eyes shut, she arched in bitter pleasure as his hands began to move over her. Her fingers were shaking as they ran over his hard chest, hearing his heart beat under them. He kissed her throat, his lips silkily intimate as they ventured behind her ears and stroked back stray strands of hair from her face. Leigh's hands moved behind his head, digging into his black hair, then jerked his head down towards her to meet the seeking invitation of her parted lips.
His mouth explored hers sensuously, one hand under her tilted head, his fingers stroking along her nape. Leigh had lost all sense of time and place. She was utterly abandoned to the deep erotic sensations he was arousing in her, her mind subjugated to the demands of her body.
A stifled sound woke them both out of their concentration on each other. Blindly Leigh turned her head on the pillow, her eyes reluctantly opening, and felt shock run through her as she saw Phil in the doorway, staring in white-faced incredulity at them.
She was unable to move or speak. The silence seemed to stretch interminably. Then Phil turned on his heel and went out.
'I must have forgotten to lock the door again,' Mattieson Hume said in a dry voice.
She looked round at him, her blue eyes wide in her white face. Her glance saw him as Phil must have seen him--his shirt undone, his hair ruffled, quite obviously a man who had been making passionate love.
Bitterly, she said, 'Did you plan that, Mr. Hume? I hope you're satisfied with yourself after this!'
He looked at her in sudden grimness. 'It takes two, Leigh,' he said directly.
She lost her pallor in a rush of hot scarlet. His eyes moved over her, narrowed and wry. 'There wa9 no fight this time, was there?'
She squirmed in distasteful realisation of what Phil had seen as he looked at them.
Mattieson Hume with jacket and tie discarded and shirt undone lying on the bed with her, her hair loose, her body totally responsive in his arms, the thin white wrap barely concealing the fact of her nakedness beneath.
Sickened, she whispered, 'He must have thought, I...we...'
'He thought we were doing just what we were doing.' the hard voice commented.
She shook her head, shuddering. 'No!'
His fingers tightened around her face, holding her head so that she could not look away. 'If he'd walked in here in another ten minutes he would have seen something that would have destroyed your pedestal even more finally,' he told her ruthlessly. 'And if you're honest with yourself, you know it.'
'You swine,' she whispered shakily.
'Why? Because I'm telling the truth? Just before he came in here, you were mine to take, and you know it.'
She slapped his face so hard her palm stung. He didn't move or react in any way. For a moment he merely stared down at her.
'Next time you hit me, Leigh, I'll hit you back,' he said at last, his voice flinty. 'This time I'll let you off with a warning.'
'Get out,' she said hoarsely. 'Get out of my room and out of my life, and stay away from me!'
He smiled sardonically. Getting off the bed, he picked up his jacket and tie and did up his shirt, his hands quite cool and steady as they fastened the buttons.
Leigh watched bitterly as he strolled towards the door. He halted to look back at her, his grey eyes insolently running over her. 'I'll be seeing you,' he said softly, then he walked out of the room.
CHAPTER FOUR
WHEN Mattieson Hume had gone Leigh dressed rapidly and went up to the next floor to see Phil. While dressing, she had been tempted to write him a letter and pack, leaving without seeing him, but her innate sense of self- respect made her realise that that was a cowardly way out of the situation. She had to see him face to face.
He opened the door at her knock and looked at her, his brown eyes dull.
Silently he stood back and she walked into the room, her blonde head bent. For the first time in her life Leigh was aware of a feeling of bitter humility. She had hurt Phil deeply, and she despised herself for it.
Phil stood with his hands in his pockets, staring at the floor. She looked at him, wincing at the lines of suffering on his face.
'I'm sorry, Phil,' she whispered unsteadily.
There was a silence. 'You could have told me.' he said in a totally unfamiliar voice, sharpened by anguish. 'You didn't have to be so devious.'
'Devious?' she repeated, frowning.
He lifted his head then, his eyes stabbing her. 'You were sending me off to Saudi Arabia to get me out of the way, weren't you, Leigh? If you wanted him why didn't you just tell me?'
She swallowed, shuddering. 'It isn't like that... you're wrong, Phil, quite wrong. I was honest about that.' She bit her lip. 'It's true that the way ... the way I feel about...' Her voice broke off, and she made a gesture of impotence. 'Phil, I don't want to feel like that. I just couldn't help it. I wasn't sending you away because I wanted him. I just saw that if he could affect me like that, it would be very wrong for me to go on with the wedding plans.
As far as he's concerned, I hope I never set eyes on him again. I detest him!'
Phil stared at her, his brown eyes probing her pale face. 'You detest him,' he repeated oddly, his voice shaking. 'Oh. God, Leigh, do you think I'm blind? It only needed one look to know exactly how you feel about him.'
She flushed deeply. 'Feel isn't the right word,' she said, angry humility in her face.
'Emotion doesn't come into it.'
'If I hadn't walked in then you would have been in bed with him by now,' Phil said tightly.
She lowered her head, not denying it. 'I don't like the way I've behaved,' she said.
'You have every right to be furious with me. I was going to go home, leaving you a letter, but I couldn't be such a coward. I'm not asking you to forgive me, I just wanted to give you the chance to say what you want to say.'
&n
bsp; There was a curious silence, and she slowly looked up. He was staring at her, his eyes narrowed. A curious smile quivered on his mouth. 'I'm sorry I called you devious, Leigh,' he said wryly. 'You're not, are you?'
She sighed. Taking off her engagement ring, she held it out to him. Phil glanced at it, shaking his head.
'You said you would wear it until I asked for it back,' he reminded her.
'That was before ...'
'All that has changed is that I've discovered you can be knocked off balance sexually, Leigh,' he said, his tone odd. 'I've often wondered if you were basically immune to feelings like that. I'm sick with jealousy because it took another man to show me that you aren't, but I still want to hold you if I can.'
She backed, shaking her head. 'No, Phil, it wouldn't be fair.'
'You say you never hope to see him again,' Phil reminded her. 'It isn't a serious relationship, is it?' His eyes narrowed and dark colour came surging into his face. 'You haven't been to bed with him already, have you?'
'No,' she said thickly.
'And you're sure you aren't in love with him?'
'I hate him,' she said tensely.
'Then keep the ring. Leigh. If you want to give it back to me when I return, then I'll accept it as final. But in the meantime, will you keep it?'
She frowned. 'It wouldn't be sensible, Phil. How can you suggest such a thing after...'
'You lost your head when a sophisticated man made a violent pass at you,' Phil said drily. 'You remember what an effect he had on your cousin. I expect he does this sort of thing all the time. If I'd known that that was all it was, I'd have punched his face at the time, but I was too shaken by what I saw, and I thought you had to be in love with him.'
His face was tight with pain. 'I've been afraid you'd fall for someone else ever since we met, Leigh. I thought this was it...'
She sighed deeply. 'You had every right to be angry. Don't be so understanding--I don't deserve it.'
Phil laughed angrily. 'My God, you ask for trouble, Leigh!' He took her by the elbows and drew her towards him, looking down into her face, his eyes feverish. 'Ever since I walked into that damned room I've been seeing visions of you that have driven me almost out of my mind. For the first time since I met you, I saw you without that cool mask you wear, and then it had to be for another man.'
'I'm sorry,' she said weakly.
'Sorry!' His laughter was grim. She saw a look come blazing into his brown eyes and pulled away, but his grip was tightening. He almost threw her bodily on to the bed and joined her, his hands cruelly holding her down, while he found her mouth, his desperate hunger making him immune to her struggles. Leigh sensed that for the first time in their relationship Phil was out of her control. Whenever he tried to make love to her in the past he had been holding himself on a leash. Now the leash had snapped, and his kisses savaged her, his hands moving over her with mounting eagerness. For some time she resisted him, but her movements only inflamed him, so she gave up the attempt to fight, and lay quiescent under his passion, allowing him to do as he pleased.
He had unzipped her dress, pushing it down over her shoulders, his lips covering her bare shoulders with kisses which burned her skin. When his face moved down to the deep white hollow between her breasts she felt him trembling. 'Oh, God, Leigh,' he whispered ardently. 'I want you so much.'
She was so moved with pity that she stroked his head, not finding the way he was touching her unpleasant. He lifted his head, his breath coming harshly, and looked into her eyes.
Gently she looked back, her blue eyes compassionate.
Phil closed his eyes briefly, a spasm of agony crossing his face. Then he sat up, his back to her.
'It isn't any good, is it?' he asked her drily. 'You just don't feel that way for me at all.'
'I'm sorry, Phil,' she said heavily.
'For God's sake, stop saying that!'
'I don't know what else to say,' she admitted.
'I'm only fooling myself by hoping that after six months you might have discovered you loved me,' he said. 'I doubt if you ever felt anything more than fondness for me.'
'I do love you in a way,' she said.
'Like a brother,' he said ironically.
'Oh, Phil,' she groaned, her voice filled with unshed tears, 'I didn't want to hurt you.'
He stood up, straightening his shoulders. 'At least we aren't married,' he said grimly. 'I should be grateful for that small mercy.'
She took off her ring again and laid it on his bed. He looked at it with bitterness.
'I'll leave tonight,' she said quietly. 'I'll go and pack now.'
Phil didn't answer, staring at her without saying a word, flame in the centre of his brown eyes.
Leigh slowly left the room and returned to her own. When she had packed she went down and paid her hotel bill. The porter got her a taxi and she drove away from the hotel feeling drained and sick.
When she reached home that night her mother looked at her in puzzled enquiry. 'Why are you back early? Is something wrong?'
Leigh held out her naked hand. 'My engagement is over, Mother. I don't want to talk about it, though. Will you tell Dad?'
Mrs. West raised an eyebrow. 'Is that all we're going to be told, Leigh?' She had her daughter's colouring and bone structure, her body elegant in the dark dress she wore, her silvered hair worn in a smooth chignon at the back of her head.
'There's nothing to discuss,' said Leigh, preparing to go to her room.
Her parents had never insisted on breaching her privacy. They were too busy running the family business, a small antique shop in Leicester, to interfere in Leigh's concerns, and she was grateful for the fact at the moment.
Over the next few days she had a difficult job in keeping her temper under the questions which were flung at her. Her broken engagement caused a good deal of speculation, and it irritated her that most of it should be damaging to Phil. Gossip relayed to her by her mother was already putting the blame at his door.
'Is it true that Phil has a girl at his firm, Leigh?' her mother asked her. 'Some redhead who went to London too? Did you find them together? Is that what happened?'
'No,' Leigh said tersely. 'It's all lies.'
But she did not tell her mother the truth; it was too embarrassing to discuss. That evening she decided to go to the cinema. She needed to get out of the house for a while.
Walking down the main street, she found herself face to face with Phil. He looked at her uncertainly.
She flushed and would have passed without a word, but he halted her.
'Surely we can talk to each other, Leigh?' he asked ruefully.
She glanced at him nervously. 'How are you, Phil?'
'Apparently my reputation is sky high at the moment,' he said sarcastically.
She flushed, even more dramatically, and looked away. 'I didn't start that stupid sordid story,' she muttered. 'I refused to say a word. I suppose people just filled in the gap with their own version.'
'I'm grateful to you,' he said, in the same voice.
'Don't be angry, Phil,' she said pleadingly.
'Angry?' His voice held an unpleasant note. 'Why should I be angry? The men in my office think I'm a gay Lothario who got caught out, and they envy me my supposed conquests, even while they're laughing at the thought that you found me out. Even Fiona seems more flattered than annoyed.' He gave her a grim smile. 'It seems her reputation has gone up like a rocket since it got round that she stole me from you.' His eyes were ironic. 'Oddly enough I think you've got the most unenviable position of the three of us, Leigh. Everyone is sorry for you, but laughing behind your back.'
She met his deliberately taunting stare. 'I know,' she said quietly. 'And not even behind my back all the time.'
'Poor Leigh,' he said coldly. 'Never mind, it's a nine- day wonder. I'm leaving for Saudi Arabia this weekend, and it will blow over once I've gone. My boss has agreed to send me at once. He's heard the story, of course, and he thinks I want to escape before Fiona tries t
o force me to marry her.'
Leigh looked at him through her lowered lashes. 'I'm Sorry, Phil,' she murmured.
Footsteps behind them slowed. She glanced round and saw some vaguely recognisable faces, her colour rising. She turned back towards Phil. 'I must go,' she said nervously.
He held her wrist before she could move, nodding over her shoulder to the trio of people behind her. 'Hallo,' he said briefly. They chorused and moved on, glancing back with eager curiosity towards them. They were all from his firm, and were dying to know what he was saying to her.
Phil looked down at her, his mouth set hard in his angry face. 'You might at least kiss me goodbye, Leigh,' he said coldly. 'At least it will give the gossip something to feed on for a while ... rumours of a reconciliation could fly around until they realise I've gone.'
'Don't, Phil,' she winced, hearing the bitterness in his voice.
He bent and kissed her hard, his mouth cruel. For a moment she stood unresisting, then he pushed her away and walked in the opposite direction very fast.
The next morning she was surprised and baffled to receive a typewritten letter from London. Her mother and father had already left for their shop. She opened the envelope and began to read it, her frown growing, until a sudden wave of angry temper swept over her. It was a formal letter thanking her for her application for the position as secretary and inviting her for an interview on the following day, as she had been shortlisted among the other applicants. She read the hard, black signature several times with eyes that felt hot as though someone had rubbed sand into them.
For a moment she was on the point of tearing the letter up, then a surge of bitter rage seemed to envelop her. She walked like a zombie to the telephone and rang her boss, asking for the day off for private reasons. He was oddly sympathetic, urging her to take the following day off too. 'We aren't that busy. Miss West. I'm sure we can manage without you for a little while.'
Only afterwards did it occur to her that he imagined that her supposed discovery of Phil's infidelity was the cause of her absence. The irony made her smile savagely.
She went back upstairs and chose her favourite dress to wear. Black, rather sleek-fitting, it emphasised her blonde fragility and self-assurance. She felt capable of defying Mattieson Hume as she left the house, and during the long train ride to London she was mentally rehearsing the scene in his office. She varied the synopsis from time to time, but one action remained each time--she would tear up his damned insolent letter and throw the pieces into his face before she walked out.
Charlotte Lamb - Pagan Encounter Page 6