The Tempestuous Flame. Carole Mortimer
right I’m not! But if this man is a friend of yours surely you trust him not to make a move like that?’
‘Caroline, you’ve met André, and you should have realised by now that I wouldn’t trust him with any woman, let alone my own daughter. He has a very potent effect on women, and although you profess to be indifferent to his charm I know it wouldn’t be long before you succumbed like most other women do. Am I right?’
‘No, you’re not,’ she denied adamantly. ‘I’ve yet to meet the man who could affect me like that, and from what I’ve seen of Mr Gregory he certainly isn’t the man to do it. He’s egotistical, pompous, and—–’ she broke off as she heard a chuckle from behind her and swinging round she saw the man she had just been describing leaning casually against the door jamb watching her. How long had he been standing there? The words screamed into her brain as she clutched frantically at her open housecoat.
André Gregory moved forward with a feline grace she found unnerving, his mocking eyes never leaving her face. ‘Don’t mind me, Miss Rawlings, you just carry on with your conversation. So far I’ve found it very enlightening.’ He sat down opposite her, toasting his bare feet before the crackling fire.
Strange, she hadn’t noticed that the fire had been lit when she came down. André Gregory must have been downstairs before her and lit it.
‘Caroline? Caroline!’ her father’s voice crackled angrily down the line. ‘Caroline, what’s going on there?’
‘Well—er—–’ she hesitated, conscious of the man sitting in the room with her. ‘I’m sorry your daughter isn’t there, Mr Rayner, but I really would like to talk to Cynthia some time today. Could you ask her to call me back?’
‘Cynthia? Mr Rayner—–?’ Her father’s puzzlement sounded quite clearly down the telephone. ‘What the hell is going on there now? Why are you—–Oh, I get it. André just walked in, right?’
‘Right,’ she agreed with relief. ‘So if you could pass on the message to her I would be very grateful.’
‘All right, I’ll call you later and then we can sort this thing out.’
Caroline looked up as André Gregory came to stand beside her, his hand outstretched for the receiver. ‘I would like a word with Matt if you don’t mind.’
‘Oh—oh yes, of course. Mr Gregory would like a few words with you, Mr Rayner.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back in the hope that her father wouldn’t give her away. She handed the receiver into that slim tanned hand, careful not to come into contact with him.
He looked at her pointedly. ‘This is a private conversation,’ he said bluntly.
Caroline’s eyes sparkled angrily. ‘I didn’t notice that I received privacy while I was on the telephone. You made no secret of the fact that you were listening.’
‘I didn’t notice you asking me to leave,’ he said patiently. ‘Now would you mind?’
Put like that she had no other choice. She glared at him resentfully before doing as he asked, slamming the door loudly behind her. A quick look in the open doorway of his bedroom confirmed her suspicion that he hadn’t made his bed, probably because he had no idea how to. She straightened the sheets before tidying the scattered blankets. He seemed to be a rough sleeper, all the bedclothes were pulled out and it took her quite a few minutes to get them in order again.
‘As one of Matt’s daughter’s friends I wouldn’t have thought you capable of doing anything as mundane as making beds, but I’ve been proved wrong, you’ve done it twice now,’ remarked the cynical voice that was slowly beginning to annoy her.
‘Well, as you don’t seem to be capable…’ she trailed off, having successfully made her point.
‘Oh, I’m capable.’ He moved forward dangerously. ‘Very capable, as I’m sure some of my—friends would confirm.’
‘I’m not interested in your—in your sex life.’ Caroline moved away from him. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me?’
André Gregory moved back to his former position, effectively blocking off her exit. He looked down at her defiant chin, a slight grin on his rugged features. ‘I didn’t realise I was talking about my—sex life,’ he paused as she had done, a purely mocking gesture, ‘but since we’re on the subject, just which one of the Rayner family are you a friend of?’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ she demanded icily.
His eyes flickered over her contemptuously. ‘What do you think I mean? Matt was singing your praises a few moments ago, with no mention of his daughter. Also he warned me off you, which in my estimation can only mean one thing. What I would like to know is what does the snooty daughter think of your friendship, if she knows about it, of course?’
Caroline couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She stared at him in horror. ‘How can you stand there and say something like that about a man you claim is a friend of yours? If—Mr Rayner has friends like you he certainly doesn’t need any enemies!’
His smile deepened with sarcasm. ‘Come on, girl! Matt may be a friend of mine, but he’s also a man, with a man’s appetites.’ He studied her appraisingly. ‘And you’re not bad to look at.’
‘Thanks for nothing!’ she snapped, intending to sweep past him but finding herself held in a vice-like grip. ‘Will you let go of my arm!’
His other hand came round to push up her chin, and it wasn’t a gentle gesture. ‘If I tell you that you’re unusually beautiful, will you calm down?’
She pushed his hand away. ‘No, I won’t! You see, I’m not susceptible to charmers like you. And after all the insults you’ve directed at—Mr Rayner and myself, I don’t see why I should bother to speak to you at all. Mr Rayner is a highly respected business man, and quite old enough to be my father.’
‘So am I—just. If I had a very misspent youth—which I probably did. But my own feelings towards you are anything but fatherly. You aren’t the type of girl to bring out those sort of instincts in a man—far from it. Especially dressed as you are now. Are you aware of the fact that on the two occasions we’ve met you’ve been dressed in a shimmering nightdress and a not very substantial wrap respectively, hardly the right attire to inspire mere friendship.’
‘I don’t happen to want your friendship,’ Caroline told him haughtily. ‘And as my clothing is so offensive to you I’ll go and dress.’
‘Oh, your clothing doesn’t offend me, on the contrary, I find it very—stimulating. But as I’ve had the warning off signal from Matt I don’t want to poach on another man’s preserve.’
‘I’m not any man’s preserve,’ she snapped angrily. ‘Especially not Mr Rayner’s. Now get out of my way!’
His hand tightened about her wrist and she winced with the pain. ‘Naughty, naughty, Caroline. Now say you’re sorry for being rude to me.’
‘I will not! Why should I?’
He raised his eyes heavenward as if losing patience with her. ‘Why indeed?’ he humoured before his face hardened and his eyes became like glittering emeralds. ‘Because I just said you should! One thing I cannot abide is rude little girls like yourself who should have had a few more beatings when they were younger, their parents leaving the task of taming them to the poor unsuspecting fool who marries them.’
‘Do you speak from experience, Mr Gregory?’
He laughed harshly. ‘Not exactly. I haven’t yet been stupid enough to get caught in that trap. But I’ve seen enough of my friends’ wives to know what I’m talking about.’
‘I’m sure you have,’ Caroline agreed bitchily. ‘From close quarters, no doubt?’
‘Very close quarters in some cases, but then I’m sure you’d already guessed