Living Together. Carole Mortimer

and again, and to things she would rather not be reminded of, painful things that could only hurt her. Why was it always Leon Masters who disrupted the even tenor of her life like this, however unwittingly? Why did he have the power to anger and unnerve her at one and the same time? What was it about him that—

      She scowled as the doorbell rang, and got reluctantly to her feet to answer it. It couldn’t be the milkman, she had paid him yesterday, and they weren’t expecting anyone to call today. It must be someone for her cousin.

      Her mouth fell open as she saw who stood on the doorstep. It was Leon Masters, vital and attractive in dark brown fitted shirt and trousers, the sunlight shining on his golden hair. ‘What do you want?’ she asked rudely.

      He raised his eyebrows at her aggression. ‘To come in.’

      ‘Why?’ she snapped.

      ‘So that I don’t have to talk to you standing on the doorstep,’ he said softly, not rising to her anger.

      Still she didn’t ask him in. ‘What are you doing here? Wasn’t there anyone available for you to send?’ she sneered.

      Leon didn’t wait any longer for her invitation to come inside but pushed past her and walked into the sitting-room. ‘Nice room.’ He sat down.

      ‘We like it,’ she said abruptly, glowering down at him. ‘I don’t remember inviting you in.’

      He gave a slow lazy smile and relaxed back on the sofa, his legs splayed out in front of him. ‘If I’d waited for that I’d still be out there. Sit down, Helen. Relax.’

      ‘With you?’ she scorned. ‘I can’t relax with someone I don’t trust.’

      He sighed. ‘That lets out about ninety-nine per cent of the population. I know you’ve been hurt, but—–’

      ‘What do you mean?’ she demanded suspiciously.

      ‘I mean you lost your husband at a very early age,’ he said slowly, watching her closely. ‘But you can’t let something like that warp the rest of your life.’

      Helen gave a bitter laugh. ‘You don’t know the first thing about it, so don’t presume to offer me advice.’

      ‘You’re too young to be buried with your husband,’ Leon said forcefully. ‘You have to get on with living, not bury yourself in the past.’

      ‘Mind your own business!’ Her eyes sparkled angrily. ‘No one asked you here, no one asked for your advice, so will you just leave?’

      ‘No,’ he told her calmly. ‘Why didn’t you come to the boat with Jenny and Matt?’

      ‘Didn’t they tell you?’

      ‘They muttered something about you being tired, about you wanting to spend the day quietly, that you get seasick. Oh, they came up with any number of reasons for you not being with them, but it was obvious what the real one was.’

      ‘I’d already decided not to go before Matt told me you would be there,’ she said defensively.

      He smiled. ‘I know that. I’m not an ogre, you know, Helen, I won’t do anything about the fact that Matt let the secret out.’

      ‘I couldn’t give a damn what you do.’ She resumed her cross-legged position in the chair, as far away from Leon Masters as she could get.

      ‘I thought not.’ He sat forward. ‘You look like a little girl sitting like that,’ he remarked softly.

      ‘Well, you can depend on it, I’m not!’

      ‘Thank God for that,’ he laughed huskily. ‘Even at twenty-two you’re a little young for me, any younger and I couldn’t even consider it.’

      ‘Consider what?’ she asked sharply.

      ‘Your seduction.’

      Helen stood up jerkily, moving to the back of the chair and clutching it. as if for protection. ‘Would you please leave?’ she said shakily.

      He didn’t move. ‘I’ve already said no. I’m going to get you, Helen, so you might as well give in without a fight.’

      ‘I’d fight you to hell and back!’ she told him fiercely. ‘I’d fight any man that came near me.’

      ’Did you love your husband so much?’

      She was suddenly calm again, her face emotionless. ‘My feelings for my husband are my own concern.’

      ‘That mask of yours slips away every now and then, doesn’t it?’ he mused softly. ‘My cool Helen occasionally becomes the fiery woman she must once have been. Does anyone else get to you like I do, Helen?’ he probed shrewdly. ‘Does any man get to you like I do?’

      She turned away. ‘You flatter yourself, Mr Masters.’

      ‘Why don’t you like being touched, Helen?’ he continued his probing.

      ‘God, I hate you!’ she glared at him. ‘What right do you have to come here and ask me personal questions? Just who do you think you are, that you can—–’

      ‘I’m going to be your lover, Helen,’ he cut in smoothly.

      ‘I—You’re what?’

      ‘Your lover. That’s what I’m going to be.’

      ‘But I—I don’t want—I don’t want a lover!’ She was white, deathly white. ‘Please, stop this. Leave me alone,’ she begged, despising herself for her weakness. ‘Oh, please, Leon, leave me alone!’ The last came out as a choked sob.

      He stood up and came to stand in front of her. ‘I can’t, my cool Helen. You have me tied up in knots. If it’s time you want, you’ve got it, but you have to let me see you, be with you, talk to you.’

      She looked at him with huge frightened eyes. ‘But why? Why does it have to be me? There are thousands of women—–’

      His hand caressing her cheek stopped the flow of words, dropping back to his side as she flinched away from him. ‘It just has to be you. I can’t explain it, so don’t ask me to. I’ve tried to be with other women, but I can’t get you out of my mind.’

      ‘But I don’t even like you,’ she said desperately.

      ‘At the moment you don’t like any man. Your emotions are dead. I’d just like to be the man who’s around when you decide to start living again. Is that too much to ask?’

      She moved away from him, his proximity unnerving, shaking her head dazedly. ‘I don’t ever want to get involved with a man again.’

      ‘You have to get involved, have to allow yourself to feel for any relationship to work.’

      ‘But I don’t want a—a relationship.’ She looked at him pleadingly. ‘Don’t you understand, I don’t want that!’

      ‘Okay, okay,’ he soothed. ‘Forget that for the moment. Just come out with me today.’

      ‘I thought you said to forget it.’

      ‘Going out for the day together hardly constitutes a relationship,’ he taunted. ‘And I had my chef prepare a picnic luncheon for us when I found out you weren’t joining us on the boat.’

      ‘Your chef?’ she echoed.

      He shrugged. ‘It was my yacht.’

      ‘You mean you’ve walked out on your guests a second time?’ she was amazed.

      He gave a rueful grin. ‘I must admit it’s getting to be a habit of mine.’

      Helen felt a reluctant smile curve her lips, and her eyes met his as she heard his sharp intake of breath. ‘What is it?’ she asked curiously.

      ‘That’s the first time you’ve smiled at me, really smiled at me.’