All Male

The older woman smiled. ‘As Lee just said, let’s not stand on ceremony. Call me Estelle.’

Kerry smiled back. ‘All right, Estelle.’

The door opened again to admit the housekeeper, carrying a tray. Lee got up to take it from her and deposit it on the table set between the two sofas, looking across enquiringly at Kerry. ‘Black or white?’

It was already gone ten, she realised, catching a glimpse of the mantel clock out of the corner of her eye. By now he should surely be thinking about going to the office? The Hartford Corporation occupied several floors of a city high-rise, with a staff of several hundred; she knew that because she had worked there for a short period a few months back as a fill-in for someone off ill, although she had seen nothing of the company president at the time.

‘Black, no sugar, please,’ she requested.

‘The way I like it too,’ he acknowledged, pouring a cup and handing it to her. ‘So we do have something in common.’

The only thing, she wanted to say, but with Estelle there she contented herself instead with a faint curl of her lip, not caring a damn if he saw it. Too late now, anyway, to pretend indifference. He already recognised her antagonism. If he proved curious enough to question further the source at some point, she might very well tell him!

Estelle took her coffee with a little cream but also refused sugar. Slim and shapely in cream jersey, she looked far from her age. She could play a woman in her thirties without any difficulty, given stage make-up and lighting, Kerry judged.

Her reluctance to return to the theatre seemed strange on the face of it. She had been such a star; she could so easily be one again. Her agent was obviously for it so why the hesitation? Surely not fear of failure? An actress of her calibre could never fail.

It was almost half past ten before Lee made a move at last.

‘I’m playing squash with Phil early evening,’ he announced, ‘so don’t wait dinner. We’ll eat at the club.’

‘Give Phil my love,’ said his mother, ‘and tell him it’s about time he came over.’

‘You could always pay him a visit,’ Lee pointed out mildly.

‘With Renata playing Lady Bountiful?’ She shook her head. ‘Not my scene, darling.’

The shrug held resignation. ‘I’ll convey the message.’ He lifted a brief hand in Kerry’s direction, the twist of his lips conveying a different message. ‘Have a nice day.’

Estelle turned a speculative glance as the door closed behind him, registering the faint colour in Kerry’s cheeks. ‘I’ve a feeling you’re not over-impressed with my son,’ she said mildly.

The colour deepened a little. ‘I’m sorry if that’s how it came across.’

‘You don’t need to be. He can be pretty infuriating when the mood takes him. From the atmosphere when I walked in, I gather the two of you had been sparring?’

Kerry had to smile. ‘I’d scarcely call it that. Just a difference of opinion.’

‘A very big difference to put that spark in his eye. The only other time I see him look like that is when some business battle is about to commence. He thrives on opposition.’

‘I can imagine.’ Kerry reached for her bag and extracted her notebook and pencil. ‘How would you like to start?’

It was Estelle’s turn to smile. ‘You’re right, of course. I’m procrastinating. Are you close enough over there if I stretch out on the sofa here and just start talking?’

‘If I’m not I’ll let you know,’ Kerry promised.

Slipping off her shoes, the older woman settled herself comfortably with her head pillowed on a cushion. ‘You’ve read a lot of biographies,’ she said. ‘Where would be a good place to start?’

Kerry considered for a moment before replying. ‘Personally, I prefer the ones that go straight through from point A to point Z, rather than the flashback type.’

‘From childhood, you mean?’

‘If possible. Where and when you were born, what kind of lifestyle you had, schooldays and so on. Humorous little anecdotes, if you can remember any.’

‘Plenty of those. I was always into mischief of one kind or another. I got myself expelled from my convent prep school for taking other pupils on guided tours of the nuns’ quarters at a penny a time when they were supposedly all busy elsewhere. It was working quite well until we all trooped in on Sister Josephine who’d been taken ill and had had to retire to bed. I can still see her expression!’

“That’s the kind of thing,’ Kerry encouraged, laughing with her. ‘What about your family?’

‘I can’t offer any rags to riches theme, I’m afraid. My father was in banking, my mother something of a society queen. We lived not very far from here in a house not unlike this one.’ Her eyes were closed, her face relaxed, her voice reminiscent.

‘My brother, Robert, was born when I was five. As a girl, I took something of a back seat from then on, I suppose. Not that it worried me too much. I’d had my first experience of facing an audience in the school Nativity play. I knew even then that it was what I wanted to do with my life...’

Kerry’s hand raced over the page, her interest already captured. Later they could go back over it all and perhaps insert a little more detail here and there, but for now it was coming along just fine. She looked forward to hearing more.

Lee Hartford she relegated to the very back of her mind, vowing to keep him there from now on. He would probably be spending little time at home during the day anyway.

CHAPTER TWO

APART from a couple of brief encounters with the master of the house, when little more than a casual good morning was exchanged, that first week went by smoothly enough.

Working mornings only, Estelle was managing a fair output, leaving Kerry the whole afternoon to spend at the word processor putting the memories into readable form. What to keep in and what to leave out would be decided later. In the meantime, she was thoroughly enjoying the job.

She was in the study late on the Friday afternoon when Lee arrived home. With her back to the door and her mind absorbed, she didn’t hear him enter the room, becoming aware of his presence only when he paused behind her to view the computer screen over her shoulder.

‘So how’s it going?’ he asked.

His closeness disrupted her concentration, causing her fingers to stumble on the keys. Cursing inwardly, she deleted the mistyped letters.

‘It was going fine,’ she said pointedly.

He ignored the sarcasm. ‘How do you rate it yourself?’

‘On the basis of what we’ve got up to now, I’d say it stands an excellent chance of becoming a best-seller,’ she answered with truth. ‘Your mother has a way with words.’

‘Part of what makes her such a good actress, I imagine. Words are her stock in trade.’

‘Other people’s words. These are her own.’ Kerry swung her head as he moved to the big mahogany desk a few feet away, meeting the grey eyes with that same involuntary tensing of muscle and sinew. ‘Are you planning on staying?’

Dark brows lifted. ‘Do you object?’

‘Only in the sense that I find you a distraction.’ She could have bitten off her tongue the moment she had said it, seeing his mouth take on the infuriating slant. ‘The same way I’d find anyone a distraction when I’m trying to work,’ she added swiftly. ‘I realise it’s your study, but you did say I could use it.’

‘In your line you should be used to having other people around,’ he returned. ‘I’ve some work of my own to do, but I’m happy enough to have you share the premises.’

With anyone else there would be no difficulty, Kerry acknowledged. The best will in the world couldn’t put her at ease with this man. Standing there in yet another of the beautifully cut suits—blue this time—he radiated a masculine air of command that set her teeth on edge.

‘I’m just about finished for the day anyway,’ she claimed. ‘I’ll leave you to it.’

He studied her thoughtfully, dropping his gaze to linger for a deliberate moment on the firm thrust of her breasts outlined against the cream silk of her shirt. ‘We never met before, by any chance?’

She shook her head, making no effort to disguise her contempt. ‘We hardly move in the same circles.’

‘So you’ve based your view of me on what?’

Her chin lifted. ‘You get a lot of publicity.’

‘Oh, I see. My media reputation.’ His tone was dry. ‘You believe everything you read in the newspapers?’

Kerry gave him back look for look. ‘I don’t recall you ever suing any for libel.’

‘So far I never felt any need. The people who matter to me know me well enough to take everything said with a pinch of salt—the rest aren’t important.’

‘In which case,’ she asked, ‘why bother about my opinion?’

His smile was slow. ‘You’re another matter.’

‘Meaning you’re accustomed to instant idolisation from women?’

‘I wouldn’t go quite that far, but I don’t usually elicit instant detestation either. How about giving me the benefit of the doubt and forming your own judgement?’

Kerry curled a lip. ‘You just can’t accept it, can you?’

‘Accept what?’

‘That the woman exists who can find you resistible!’

The smile came again, grey eyes acquiring sudden tawny lights. ‘Is that a challenge?’

‘No, it damn well isn’t!’ she said, furious with herself for getting involved in any kind of repartee with the man. ‘As I’ve said before, I’m here to work, not to play games with you!’

‘I don’t recall you saying that before. Not in so many words, at any rate.’ He was openly laughing, eyes crinkling at the corners. ‘I like your style, Kerry. So refreshingly astringent! Makes me wonder if that’s the real you—or if there’s a softer side underneath it all. Be interesting to find out.’

Kerry took a hold on herself, aware of being got at. ‘If there is,’ she said with withering scorn, ‘you’re unlikely to find it!’

‘Now that,’ he returned, ‘is quite definitely a challenge!’ Still smiling, he turned back to the desk and added over one shoulder, ‘Make sure the heads are properly parked when you exit.’

‘I always do,’ she snapped, resenting both the instruction and the mockery. ‘I’ve used computers before.’

‘That’s OK, then.’

Kerry was seething as she despatched the afternoon’s work to the printer, standing there and ostensibly reading the print-out as it emerged. Lee had taken a seat behind the desk and was going through some papers. She could see him from the corner of her eye, dark head bent, one lean hand wielding a pen—her presence obviously forgotten. He’d had his fun with her—that was all it had been—and now it was back to the important things in life. So far as she was concerned, he could go to hell!

With the hard copy safely stored, and both machines switched off at last, she was free to leave. It would be less than adult to stalk out without a word, she decided, and steeled herself to murmur a short, ‘Goodnight.’

Lee looked up, his lean, hard-boned features illuminated by the desk lamp he had switched on. For a fleeting moment he appeared on the verge of putting some question, but the words didn’t materialise. ‘Have a good evening,’ was all he said.

Estelle was watching children’s television in her sitting room. She looked round without embarrassment when Kerry went in to take her leave.

‘I adore Blue Peter, don’t you?’

‘I’ve never really watched it,’ Kerry confessed.

‘No, I suppose you’re always on your way home from work when it’s on.’ She added unexpectedly, ‘Why don’t you stay and have dinner with us tonight? Lee will run you home.’

‘It’s nice of you to invite me but I have a date tonight,’ Kerry improvised hastily. ‘In any case, I wouldn’t dream of dragging your son across town.’

‘I’m sure he’d be more than willing, but if you already have an engagement...’ The older woman paused, eying her speculatively. ‘Someone special, is it?’

‘Just a friend.’ It was time to go, before she got herself involved in further lies. She gave her employer a smile. ‘The hard copy is in the top drawer, if you want to go through what we’ve done up to now.’

‘I think I’ll leave it until we’ve got a bit further,’ Estelle returned. ‘I hope Lee didn’t disturb you too much.’

‘Not at all.’ Another lie, but the only answer she was prepared to give. ‘See you on Monday.’

Coming out of the cloakroom some minutes later dressed for the street in the camel coat which had cost her almost a week’s salary, she was disconcerted to find Lee waiting for her in the hall. Leaning against the staircase newel post, he looked deceptively benign.

‘I ordered a taxi for you,’ he said. ‘From now on there’ll be one on tap every evening. All you have to do is make a call whenever you’re ready to leave. The bill will be taken care of.’

A munificent gesture, Kerry was bound to acknowledge, though not one she cared to take advantage of, coming as it did from him.

‘Thanks, but I’m quite happy taking the tube,’ she said shortly.

The rejection made little noticeable impact. ‘I’m more concerned with your reaching it safely. It’s already dark out there. No time for a woman to be walking the streets on her own.’

‘I’ve done it the past three years without coming to any harm,’ she pointed out.

‘Not in this area, with few other people about. Anyway, it’s all arranged.’

She drew in a long slow breath, opposing the autocracy with every fibre. ‘Do you take it on yourself to organise everyone’s life for them? I don’t need a taxi!’

‘You’re getting one, nevertheless.’ Neither tone nor expression left any doubt of his adamance. ‘My mother will be in total agreement. She said only last night that she worried about you leaving after dark.’

‘Thoughtful of her, but—’

‘But nothing.’ This time there was a definite edge of impatience to his voice. ‘If you want to continue coming here at all this winter then you accept the situation.’

‘Surely,’ she said, ‘that’s up to your mother to decide?’

‘Not in the circumstances.’

‘Oh, I see. It’s your house, and you make the decisions!’

‘If you want to see it that way. Most people would be only too happy to have a door-to-door ride home at the end of the day.’

He was right there, but she wanted no favours from him. ‘I’m not most people,’ she declared frostily.

‘Obviously.’

He had straightened away from the post, standing with hands thrust into trouser pockets and suit jacket pushed back to reveal a broad expanse of sparkling white. Kerry found her eyes drifting involuntarily downwards over the flat waistband and lean hips, warmth singeing her cheeks as she dragged her gaze forcibly upwards again to see his mouth slant.

‘Devastating, isn’t it?’ he said softly.

‘What is?’ she parried.

‘Sexual attraction. I was aware of it the moment we met.’ The pause was meaningful. ‘We both were.’

‘There’s such a thing as over-confidence,’ Kerry retorted caustically. ‘I’d say you had it in spades!’

‘Uncertainty is no asset,’ came the smooth response. ‘If you weren’t as drawn to me underneath all that antagonism as I am to you, you wouldn’t be making such a song and dance about it.’

‘I am not...’ she began furiously, breaking off abruptly as she saw the glimmer in his eyes. It was all a big joke to him—a game he was expert at playing. The temptation to fling Sarah’s name in his face was almost overwhelming. It took a real effort to resist it Sarah herself might not want Kerry championing her cause.

The hoot of a horn from the street outside was something of a relief, despite her reluctance to accept the arrangement.

‘I suppose that’s the cab,’ she said.

Lee inclined his head in ironic agreement. ‘Let’s not keep it waiting.’

He accompanied her out, opening the cab door for her.

‘I’d suggest we meet over the weekend,’ he said as she brushed past him, ‘but I suspect you’d turn me down just for the hell of it. Maybe next weekend.’

Meaning that by then she would be bound to have mellowed towards him, Kerry assumed as he closed the door and lifted a hand in taunting farewell. Well, he could think again! Nothing he could say or do would change her opinion of him. It was set in stone.

Where her finer feelings were concerned, maybe, came the sneaking thought, but there was no denying her physical responses. Sexual attraction, Lee had called it: a chemical reaction that had nothing to do with liking or disliking. A governable one, though, she told herself tightly. When it came to mind over matter there was no contest. Not in this instance.

Phoning on the Saturday to announce her return from a two-week shoot in the Caribbean, Sarah sounded more up-beat than she had done in ages. Posing semi-nude for magazine and calendar work hadn’t been her original aim, but the financial enticement had overcome any scruples she’d had. She had, she claimed, enjoyed the whole experience.

Kerry contemplated leaving Lee Hartford’s name out of it altogether when detailing her own new job over lunch the following day, but the chance, no matter how remote, that Sarah might hear of the relationship persuaded her to come clean.

‘He’s everything you said,’ she confirmed. ‘Thinks he only has to beckon to have every woman falling over herself to please him! It would do him a power of good to have the tables turned on him!’

The vivacious face opposite hardened. ‘It would need someone capable of playing him at his own game.’ She gave a brittle laugh. ‘If you feel the way you say you do about him why not do it yourself?’

‘Even if I were up to that kind of thing at all, I think I’ve made my opinion a bit too obvious to start now,’ Kerry returned drily, aware all the same of a fleeting temptation.

‘You could always make out you were trying to cover up how he really affected you. He’d believe it,’ Sarah was obviously taken with the idea, her eyes bright with malice. ‘You could do it. You could even enjoy doing it! Just imagine the satisfaction you’d gain from giving the great Lee Hartford the run-around!’

Kerry could imagine. What she lacked was the guts to take him on. Fear of falling for him? suggested that sneaky little voice.

‘Not really my style,’ she said flatly.

‘It could be.’ Having come up with the notion, Sarah wasn’t about to let it go that easily. ‘You’d be avenging all those he’s made fools of, not just me.’

‘You think he leads all his women to believe he’s going to marry them?’ Kerry questioned.

‘Maybe not all, but he definitely led me to think that was where we were heading. Then suddenly it was over. He just lost interest.’ Sarah waited a moment, wry resignation overtaking the animation in her eyes when Kerry remained silent. ‘I suppose you’re right. It wasn’t a good idea. Anyway, forget it.’

It would be a long time before Sarah was able to forget, Kerry guessed, sensing the depth of hurt still there in her friend. Had there been any softening at all in her own feelings toward Lee Hartford they would have hardened again. He was a total degenerate!

Monday morning was dry and sunny, the air crisp and clear. If only the winter weather could always be like this, Kerry yearned, walking from the station to the house with a spring in her step. The only drawback being, she supposed, that one would want to be outside in it rather than confined indoors.

In celebration of the sunnier outlook she had put on a skirt and matching waistcoat in a tan and cream checked wool, along with a cream cashmere sweater, the whole ensemble covered by a toning throw-over wrap. The outfit had drawn several approving glances on the way here, and drew yet another when Estelle saw her.

‘You could stalk a catwalk along with the best!’ she declared. ‘I still think you’re wasted doing what you do, good though you are at it.’

‘I like what I do,’ Kerry assured her. ‘Although I’ll certainly be sorry when this job is over.’

Estelle shook her head. ‘That won’t be for quite a time. I dare say there’ll be a whole lot of revision to do before I can even think about submitting a manuscript.’

True enough, Kerry reflected, feeling anything but daunted by the prospect. If the bio failed to make the impact she predicted it wasn’t going to be through lack of effort on her part.

That confidence faded just a little over the course of the morning when Estelle showed signs of having hit a mental block.

‘I suppose I’m not really in the mood,’ she confessed in the end. ‘My mind keeps running off at a tangent. Supposing you type up what I’ve managed to come up with this far and see how it looks?’

Kerry did her best to hide her reservations. Running out of steam this early tended to suggest a basic loss of interest. It was possible that the whole autobiography idea had been no more than a passing whim on Estelle’s part—a means of relieving the tedium. Her son was perhaps right in considering a return to the stage the best option.

She had almost completed transcribing her shorthand on screen when the telephone rang. She ignored it at first, trusting that Estelle would pick up the call, but it just went on ringing until she finally felt bound to lift the receiver herself.

‘Sorry to interrupt the flow,’ said Lee, before she could speak, ‘but I’ve an urgent request to make. Can you spare Kerry to bring me the blue file I left on the desk? I need it urgently or I’d send someone out for it. A taxi should get her here within half an hour.’

‘This is Kerry,’ she said coolly. ‘No one else appeared to be answering the phone so I took the call myself.’

There was a brief pause before he answered in an altered tone, ‘Where are you?’

‘In the study,’ she confirmed, and heard him say something short and sharp under his breath.

‘That’s a separate line. My secretary got the wrong number. No matter. You’re obviously not taking dictation right now so I’m sure Mother won’t mind you bringing me the file. You’ll find the taxi number on my desk pad. There shouldn’t be any difficulty at this hour.’

Kerry bit back the rebuttal trembling on her lips. Estelle was paying her for her time. If there were any rebuttals to be made at all she was the one to do it.

‘Certainly, Mr Hartford,’ she said tonelessly instead.

She cut contact before he could make any reply. Not, she supposed, that he needed to say anything else. No byplay this morning, she noted. In all probability he had decided the game wasn’t worth the candle where she was concerned Well, that suited her fine!

As anticipated, Estelle was more than prepared to let her go, although she did ask if she minded. Kerry phoned for a cab, and spent the five minutes until it arrived touching up her make-up and running a comb through her hair. If she had to do this at all, she told herself, she was not going to arrive looking as if she’d dropped everything to fly to his bidding!

The pre-luncheon traffic proved light enough to allow arrival at the imposing tower block within the half-hour. Kerry could have found her way up to the appropriate floor but was bound as a visitor to report first to Reception. The man on duty had her name already on his list and sent her right up.

There were several other people waiting at the lifts, among them a blond-haired young man she recognised immediately though not with any particular pleasure.

‘Who are you taking over for this time?’ he asked after they’d exchanged greetings.

‘I’m not,’ she said. ‘I’m only here to bring Mr Hartford a file he left behind.’

His brows shot up. ‘You work for the big boss?’

‘His mother,’ Kerry corrected. ‘I’d better get a move on. He’s in a hurry for it.’

The grin was meaningful. ‘I’ll bet!’

Kerry ignored the innuendo. It was what she might have expected from Jason King. She’d gone out with him once while she’d been working here, but hadn’t cared to repeat the experience after he’d made his interests only too clear. Yet another good-looking, out-for-what-he-could-get dissolute!

He got off at the fourth floor, leaving her to continue one more to the executive floor. She had never had occasion to enter the hallowed premises before, and was tentative about it now as she approached the desk where Lee’s secretary held jurisdiction over further progress.