Man-Hater. Penny Jordan

she had shared with Colin; of the bliss that had been hers for those few short months she had spent planning the décor—a décor far removed from the elegance of her apartment.

      What was past was past, she told herself firmly as she shrugged off her trench coat in her bedroom, hanging it up as she had been taught to do by her grandmother, who had been a stickler for tidiness. She remembered that Colin had mocked her for this habit—as he had done for so many things, only at the time she had been too blind to recognise the truth for what it was, and had thought he was simply teasing her.

      The excellence of her plain navy pin-striped skirt and white silk blouse spoke for themselves. The silk clung treacherously to the curves of her breasts—too generous in Kelly’s opinion, and in the early days of the company she had had to freeze off the admiring looks of more than one client. Personally she thought her figure too voluptuous. Her waist was too narrow for the fullness of her breasts, her legs too long. If she had to find one word to describe her figure, that word would be ‘flamboyant’, Kelly acknowledged distastefully, and she always dressed in a style that minimised rather than maximised her curves. Her hair was long and dark, and she normally wore it in a neat chignon. She had always worn it long.

      Her grandmother used to brush it for her every night, and once released from its constraining pins it had the texture and sheen of rich silk. She really ought to have it cut, she thought, slipping off her skirt and carefully returning it to its hanger, but wearing it up helped to add to her air of reserve, and this had been a useful weapon in establishing the company. Men never tended to take seriously women they were thinking of going to bed with rather than giving a business contract to, and Kelly had found out very quickly that her distant air, coupled with her formal clothes and severe hairstyle, helped to preserve the image she wished to maintain.

      The day had tired her more than she had thought. She had little appetite and longed only to relax and go to bed, but first she had those figures to check. She always changed her clothes when she came home at night, never into the jeans and tops she had favoured in the days before Colin, but tonight for some reason something within her rebelled and instead of reaching for the plain dress she had been about to put on, Kelly found herself removing from her wardrobe a richly patterned silk kimono that one of her Japanese customers had sent her the previous Christmas.

      The azure blue background enhanced the darkness of her skin and the sapphire depths of her eyes. Her skin was almost too pale—a result of not having had a holiday for too long, she thought ruefully as she tied the sash, and removed the light layer of make-up she had worn during the day, brushing her hair methodically before returning to the living room and curling up on the settee with the papers she had brought home with her.

      She was deeply engrossed in the figures when her doorbell pealed. Frowning, she went across to the intercom in the hallway and asked crisply to know the name of her visitor.

      ‘It’s me, Kelly—Jeremy Benson.’

      Kelly’s heart sank as she heard the familiar and, to her ears, faintly unpleasant drawl of her best friend’s husband’s voice. She had never liked Jeremy in the days when he and Sue were merely engaged, and her dislike had grown into loathing in the years that followed. Sue and Jeremy had been married for six years, and Kelly doubted that Jeremy had remained faithful to her friend for even one of them.

      Sue and Kelly had been at school together. Sue was the closest friend she had, but ever since Jeremy had made it plain that he was sexually attracted to her, Kelly had found that she saw less and less of her friend, apart from brief shopping trips together, fitted in on Sue’s infrequent visits to London, when Jeremy could not accompany them.

      That Jeremy knew how she felt about him, and still persisted in his blatant attempts to seduce her, infuriated Kelly all the more and only reinforced her opinion of men in general, which was that as far as the majority of them were concerned, despite Women’s Lib, and the much vaunted equality beloved of the newspapers, women were still things as opposed to people with equal rights, and that it was simply enough for a man to want and try to take, without having the slightest regard for the feelings, or lack of them, of the object of his wanting.

      For Sue’s sake, she had not told Jeremy how much she despised him. He was a weak and vindictive man and over the years she had seen him gradually alienate Sue from all her old friends, so that she was entirely dependent on him emotionally, while he was free to pursue his flirtations and affairs. Sue never mentioned Jeremy’s failings to her, and Kelly genuinely believed that she was not aware of his real personality. She loved him, as she was constantly telling Kelly, and Kelly dreaded what would happen to her friend if she ever discovered the truth. Had she not had first-hand experience of the devastating effect such a discovery could have on a woman in love?

      ‘Come on, Kelly, don’t keep me waiting down here all night! I’ve got a message for you from Sue.’

      It was on the top of Kelly’s tongue to tell him to simply give her the message and go, but she knew that, if she did, Jeremy would consider that he had scored against her. Jeremy was well aware of her aversion to him and, far from putting him off, it only seemed to increase his desire for her. If she refused to let him come up to the apartment he would goad her at a later date of being afraid to be alone with him: twisting the facts until it appeared that she was afraid to be alone with him because she desired him! Kelly knew quite well how his mind worked.

      Her mouth twisting bitterly, she told him to come up.

      His eyes widened appreciatively as she let him in, and as he bent forward to kiss her cheek, Kelly kept her body rigidly away from him.

      He merely looked amused.

      ‘Still the same old frigid Kelly,’ he mocked. ‘What’s the matter? Afraid of what might happen between us if you really let go? No need to be, old girl.’

      His manner, as always, set Kelly’s teeth on edge and she could feel her temper simmering just below boiling point as she poured him a drink and handed it to him before sitting down opposite him.

      ‘Fantastic place you’ve got here,’ Jeremy said appreciatively, glancing round the room. ‘Sue hasn’t the faintest idea about décor,’ he added disparagingly, ‘but then, of course, I suppose everything’s possible if one has the money.’

      Two thrusts with one blow, Kelly thought acidly. First the criticism of her friend, and then the reminder that she had the wealth to buy good taste.

      ‘You said you had a message for me from Sue,’ she reminded him frostily.

      ‘Welcoming, aren’t you?’ Jeremy complained, adopting a hurt little boy air that irritated Kelly beyond bearing, although she knew it worked well with poor Sue. ‘We haven’t seen you in months and now you can’t wait to get rid of me.’

      ‘I’ve got some work to do.’ She indicated the pile of papers beside her. ‘What are you doing in town anyway?’

      Jeremy was an accountant with his own practice in the New Forest, where they lived, and it was a constant bone of contention with him that Kelly wouldn’t transfer her business to his practice.

      ‘A business meeting,’ he told her. ‘And Sue suggested I call and see you. She wants to show off the new house and suggested you might like to come down for the weekend. She’s feeling a bit low at the moment, with the baby and everything.’

      Was it Sue who wanted to show off the new house they had just bought, or Jeremy? Kelly wondered acidly, but the last part of Jeremy’s sentence reminded her that her friend had just lost a much wanted baby, and it smote her conscience that apart from a telephone call she had not spoken much to Sue since the tragic event.

      ‘What’s the matter?’ Jeremy asked, watching her craftily. ‘Don’t you fancy the idea? Or is it that you fancy it too much? There’s something about you, Kelly. It really turns me on; the high-powered woman image. Poor Sue can’t really hold a candle to you. She’s developing into a boring little hausfrau, I’m afraid, and all this fuss about the baby hasn’t helped.’

      God, he really was callous and unfeeling! Kelly fumed, longing to tell him that in her opinion Sue was