Living Together

Steely fingers clamped on her arm and spun her round, the other hand moving to wrench up her chin, forcing her to meet the anger in his narrowed eyes. ‘Don’t flatter yourself that I want an affair with you either!’ he snapped. ‘Frigid women aren’t my type.’

The colour drained from Helen’s face, leaving her chalk-white. ‘I’ll never forgive you for saying that!’ she told him vehemently. ‘Never, as long as I live. Get your hands off me!’ she ordered in a controlled voice.

‘Like hell I will!’ He pulled her so hard against him she lost her balance and would have fallen if he hadn’t been holding her. ‘At least, not before I’ve thawed some of that ice!’ His lips ground down savagely on hers.

Helen felt the taste of blood as he split her bottom lip against her teeth. And all she could feel was nausea—nausea for his mouth on hers, nausea for his hands pressing her body against his. She twisted her head from side to side in an effort to escape that punishing mouth, but he kept right on kissing her.

She could feel hysteria rising within her when he at last released her, her eyes deep purple smudges of pain in her pale, tense face. She rubbed her hand across her mouth to erase his touch, uncaring of the blood she was smearing across her cheeks.

‘My God!’ Leon was almost as pale as she was. ‘You’re not frigid at all, you’re just plain scared.’

‘I hate you!’ she spat the words at him. ‘I hate you, I hate you, I hate you!’ Tears were streaming down her face by this time. ‘How dare you touch me! How dare you!’

Then she was running, running, desperate to get away from him. His jacket fell unheeded to the ground and still she kept on running. She didn’t stop until she was sure he hadn’t followed her. That was when she flagged down a taxi, uncaring of the sight she must look with her dishevelled appearance and the blood on her face.

She was a hunched-up ball of misery when Jenny burst into the flat an hour later. She had felt numb by the time she got home, completely unable to do anything other than collapse on the sofa.

Jenny put the light on with a flick of the switch. ‘My God!’ she breathed softly. ‘Oh, my God!’ She ran over to cradle Helen in her arms. ‘Oh, Helen,’ she choked. ‘What did he do to you?’

‘Who?’ Helen asked dazedly.

Jenny smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Leon Masters!’ she said angrily.

Reaction was setting in in earnest now, a terrible shaking invading her limbs, her teeth chattering. ‘H-how do you know about that?’

‘Because he told me. That’s why I’m here. After disappearing for nearly an hour from his own party he came back and told me you needed me. He didn’t exactly say why, but I could guess. What did he do, Helen?’ she probed gently.

‘He—–’ Helen swallowed hard. ‘He kissed me!’ She shuddered at the memory of it, once again feeling those firm passionate lips on hers. No one had kissed her since—since Michael, and she could only feel angered and sick at Leon Masters daring to do so.

Jenny searched her features. ‘Is that all?’

Helen jerked away from her. ‘Isn’t it enough!’

‘But I—well, it was only a kiss, Helen,’ Jenny chided lightly. ‘You’ve been kissed before.’

‘No! No, I haven’t. Not since—not since—Michael,’ Helen had difficulty in even saying his name. She held herself stiffly. ‘I hate him!’

‘Michael?’

‘Leon Masters!’ Helen said sharply. ‘He kissed me and it—it was horrible. Horrible!’

‘He’s certainly made a mess of your mouth.’ Jenny touched her torn lip. ‘That’s going to be swollen and sore tomorrow.’

‘It’s sore now.’

‘I don’t suppose he appreciated you fighting him.’

‘That isn’t why he did it.’ Helen took a deep ragged breath. ‘He kissed me because he said—he said I was—frigid.’

Jenny frowned. ‘Does he know you’ve been married?’

‘Oh yes,’ Helen acknowledged bitterly, ‘he knew. He seemed to think it was his duty to snap me out of my frigidity.’

‘The insensitivity of the man!’ Jenny muttered. ‘Did you tell him about the accident, about—–’

‘No!’ Helen cut in shrilly. ‘No, I didn’t tell him anything. Why should I? He means nothing to me.’

‘But he’d like to. He more or less demanded that I introduce the two of you.’

’Well, I wish you’d said no.’

‘Stay there,’ Jenny ordered as she began to move. ‘I’ll get a cloth and clean your face up.’

Helen grimaced. ‘I wasn’t going anywhere, just getting comfortable.’

Jenny was back within seconds, gently sponging the blood off Helen’s face. ‘He was a bit rough with you,’ she murmured thoughtfully.

Helen winced as she touched a tender spot. ‘Rough!’ she repeated disgustedly. ‘He was like an animal!’

‘Oh, surely not. He—–’

‘He was like an animal,’ she insisted. ‘I suppose he thinks that because he’s who he is I should have felt honoured by his attention to me. He had the nerve to think I was attracted to him.’

‘And you weren’t?’

Helen touched the soreness of her mouth. ‘Doesn’t this tell you the answer to that?’ she grimaced.

Jenny shrugged. ‘I suppose so.’ She walked over to pick up the telephone and began dialling.

‘Who are you ringing?’ Helen asked curiously.

‘The man.’ She was obviously listening to the dialling sound.

‘The man?’

Jenny grinned. ‘Leon Masters.’

‘Whatever for?’ Helen demanded.

‘He wanted me to let him know you’d got home safely and that you were okay.’

Helen stood up to leave the room. ‘If he felt that strongly about it he should have come and found out for himself. But of course that would have been too much trouble, and—–’

‘He wanted to come,’ Jenny cut in softly. ‘He drove me home and asked to come in, but in the circumstances I thought it might be better if he didn’t.’

‘Thank goodness for that! I never want to see him again. And I should stop ringing if I were you, he’ll never hear the telephone above the din that was going on there.’

‘But he—Ah, Leon,’ Jenny pursed her mouth pointedly at Helen. ‘Yes, yes, I know you’ve been waiting for my call. Yes. No. Yes. I—–’

‘I’m going to bed,’ Helen told her crossly. ‘Don’t wake me up when you come in.’

Jenny held the receiver away from her ear, her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘He wants to talk to you,’ she whispered.

‘Tell him we have nothing to talk about,’ and Helen walked out of the room.

Seconds later Jenny followed her into the bedroom. ‘He says it’s important.’

‘We have nothing to say to each other,’ Helen said firmly. ‘Tell him I’m not interested.’

‘I can’t tell him that!’ Jenny exclaimed, scandalised.

Helen shrugged. ‘Okay, tell him what you please, but I want nothing more to do with him. And, Jenny,’ she stopped her cousin in the process of leaving, ‘please don’t tell him anything about my private life.’

Jenny sighed. ‘I can hardly do that—even I don’t know all of it.’

‘Well, don’t tell him what you do know.’

‘As if I would!’

‘You may not mean to. I was with him long enough to know he could charm anything out of you if he really set his mind to it.’

‘Anything?’ Jenny teased.

‘Anything,’ Helen returned lightly. As usual Jenny’s bubbly good humour was having a calming effect on her.

But she lay awake a long time that night after she knew Jenny to be asleep. She might resent and despise Leon Masters’ unwelcome intrusion into her life, might hate him for kissing her, but there was one thing she had to acknowledge. In the two years since the accident, since Michael’s death, she hadn’t cried once, not over anything, and yet half an hour after meeting Leon Masters she had been crying almost hysterically. And she didn’t like the fact that he had been the one to take the first brick off the wall she had built around her emotions; she didn’t like it one bit.

CHAPTER TWO

‘ARE you sure you won’t come?’ Jenny cajoled. ‘It’s sure to be fun.’

‘I’m not in the mood for a boating trip,’ Helen refused, her nose buried in a particularly good murder story.

Jenny laughed. ‘It isn’t a “boating trip”! Cruising over to France for the day can hardly be called that,’ she said disgustedly.

Helen rested her chin on her drawn-up knees, the denims she wore old and worn, her blouse casually unbuttoned at her throat for coolness. ‘It is to me. And I don’t want to go to France, I’m perfectly comfortable where I am.’

‘But you can read that book any old time.’

‘And I can go to France any old time too. I do work in a travel agency, you know. I get discount.’

‘But this trip would be for free.’

‘I don’t want to go,’ Helen told her firmly. ‘I haven’t forgotten the last time you persuaded me to go out when I didn’t want to.’ She touched her bottom lip, which after a week still showed some signs of bruising. ‘Everyone at work thought someone had slugged me one.’

‘It wasn’t my fault Leon Masters took a fancy to you.’

Helen grimaced. ‘Thank goodness he’s stopped telephoning now.’ He had telephoned every day for five days, but for the last two she had heard nothing from him.

‘Why?’ Jenny teased. ‘Were you beginning to weaken?’

’Certainly not!’ But Helen was aware her denial didn’t carry conviction. ‘I’m glad he’s stopped trying.’

‘Maybe he hasn’t,’ Jenny remarked casually. ‘Maybe he’s just trying a different approach.’

‘Absence making the heart grow fonder?’ Helen queried wryly.

‘Something like that.’

‘It hasn’t,’ she told her firmly.

‘Sure?’

‘Very sure.’

‘And you won’t come today?’ Jenny persisted. ‘You just have time to get ready if you’ve changed your mind, Matt won’t be here for another ten minutes.’

‘I haven’t changed my mind.’ Helen stretched, yawning tiredly. ‘I’ve had a hard week, I’m going to lie back and relax.’

‘You could relax on the boat.’

‘No, thanks. 1 know that crowd, you have to fight off lecherous men all the time. And talking of lecherous men,’ Helen smiled mischievously, ‘you’ve seen rather a lot of Matt this week.’

Jenny blushed prettily. ‘He isn’t lecherous.’

Helen quirked an eyebrow. ‘You mean he’s changed?’

Her cousin laughed. ‘No, silly! He’s just never been that way with me. He even told me off for wearing that dress last Saturday.’

‘Mm—well, I wish you hadn’t persuaded me to wear one of yours. It gave Leon Masters the wrong impression. It may look good on you, but with my—well, my fuller figure up top it was too revealing to be thought anything other than a come-on.’

Jenny grinned. ‘And he came on strong!’

‘Too strong,’ Helen agreed ruefully. ‘He frightens me. He’s so—so assured, so arrogant.’

‘As long as he makes you feel something. That has to be an improvement.’

‘What do you mean?’ Helen asked sharply.

’You’ve been a bit—well, a bit emotionless since Michael,’ Jenny explained gently.

Helen bit her lip. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve been hard to live with. It’s just that after Michael I find it hard to live with anyone.’

‘I know, love.’ Jenny squeezed her hand. ‘And you aren’t difficult to live with, completely the opposite, in fact. You seem to have lost all your zest for life, shut yourself in from people. I wish you could put it all behind you, be like you were before it all happened.’

‘You can never go back, Jenny. What’s happened happened, you can never change it, and I can never be that person again.’

‘I still wish—–’ Jenny broke off as the doorbell rang. ’That will be Matt, and I’m still not quite ready. Be a pet and answer the door for me while I brush my hair.’

‘Okay.’ Helen climbed reluctantly off the sofa, her denims emphasising her slenderness.

‘And don’t seduce my boy-friend on the doorstep,’ Jenny warned teasingly.

‘He should be so lucky!’ Helen called after her.

She let Matt in, taking him into the lounge. He was very attractive in casual white trousers and shirt, looking healthy and attractive.

He quirked an eyebrow at her. ‘You aren’t ready.’

‘No,’ she sat cross-legged on the sofa, ‘I’m not going.’

‘Not going! But—–’ he turned to Jenny as she came through from the bedroom. ‘Helen’s just told me she isn’t going.’

‘That’s right, she isn’t.’

Was it Helen’s imagination or did she see that look pass between them? She shrugged. ‘Is it that important? I’m sure you two would rather be without an unwanted third person.’

‘You aren’t unwanted,’ Matt said smoothly. ‘We would love you to come along.’

‘I’ve already been through all that,’ Jenny told him, as she picked up her bag from a chair. ‘She can be very stubborn, can our Helen.’

‘But—–’

‘She doesn’t want to go, Matt,’ Jenny said firmly. ‘And nothing will persuade her.’

This time Helen was sure she could sense an undercurrent, a feeling they knew something she didn’t. Jenny hadn’t emphasised the word ‘nothing’, and yet the inflection had been there all the same.

‘Is there something you aren’t telling me?’ she asked them.

Jenny frowned. ‘Why should you think that?’

She shrugged. ‘Just your manner. Is there something?’

‘Well, actually—–’

‘No,’ again Jenny cut in on Matt, ‘there’s nothing. Shall we go, Matt?’ she said pointedly.

‘But—–’

‘Shall we go?’ she repeated firmly.

He sighed. ‘Oh, all right. But he isn’t going to like it.’

‘He?’ Helen picked up sharply. ‘And who might “he” be?’ she asked suspiciously.

Jenny gave Matt an angry glare. ‘Now look what you’ve done! I had no intention of mentioning that he was behind the invitation.’

‘Oh,’ Matt looked shamefaced. ‘I see.’

‘By “he”,’ Helen said tautly, ‘I take it you mean Leon Masters?’

‘Well—–’

‘Of course we do,’ Matt acknowledged impatiently. ‘Hell, what’s the use of prevaricating, Jenny?’ he snapped as she went to interrupt yet again. He looked down at Helen. ‘Leon wants you there today.’

Her mouth tightened. ‘Does he now?’ She looked angrily at her cousin. ‘I take it this is what you meant by a different approach?’

‘Now look what you’ve done, Matt!’ snapped Jenny. ’Why couldn’t you have just kept quiet?’

Helen stood up. ‘I’m glad he didn’t. So I was supposed to go along today as Leon Masters’ companion,’ she mused softly. ‘God, that man has a nerve! Doesn’t he know how to take no for an answer?’

Jenny shrugged. ‘I should think it’s quite a few years since anyone said it. It’s a new experience for him.’

‘Well, his new experiences can continue. Tell him the answer is still no.’

‘Now look, Helen,’ Matt chided. ‘Leon isn’t an easy man to cross. He can be a right swine at times.’

‘Oh, I know that,’ she said bitterly. ‘But I don’t have to say yes to him. Some of the other women in his life may not have been so lucky—I’m sure he has a lot of influence in the acting world.’

‘Hey, now I wouldn’t ever say he’s used blackmail to get a woman,’ Matt admonished. ‘When I said he could be a swine I meant in his manner and verbally. As far as I know he’s always played it straight with everyone.’

‘Except me,’ said Helen vehemently. ‘He was being underhand and arrogant in getting you to take me with you today. All it’s done is increase my dislike of him. Tell him his little plan failed—miserably. I don’t like him and I don’t want to go out with him.’

Matt raised his eybrows. ‘Another new experience! Most females I know would love to have your opportunity.’

‘They’re welcome to it!’

‘Come on, Matt,’ Jenny linked her arm through his, ‘let’s get out of here before you do any more damage. I think you’ve put your foot in it enough for one day.’

He looked sheepish. ‘Well, how was I to know you hadn’t told Helen about Leon’s involvement?’

‘You should have tried using a little common sense.’

‘Please don’t argue about it, you two,’ Helen told them. ‘It isn’t worth it.’

Jenny bent to kiss her on the cheek. ‘Sorry, love. I was only doing what I thought best.’

‘Involving me with Leon Masters?’ Helen derided.

‘With any man. I didn’t care who it was.’

‘Thanks!’

Jenny sighed. ‘You know what I meant. I was only trying to help.’

Helen grimaced. ‘That kind of help I can do without.’

‘All right, I know when I’m beaten. Have a nice day.’

‘And you.’ Helen picked up her book. ‘And don’t rush back on my account.’

‘We don’t intend to,’ Matt said moodily.

‘Don’t be such a bad loser,’ Jenny chided teasingly.

‘It’s all right for you, but what do I tell Leon? He’s going to be furious,’ he groaned.

‘You’ll think of something,’ Helen said uncaringly. ‘Preferably the truth.’

‘Which is?’

‘That I’m not interested,’ she said in a bored voice.

She went back to her book, pretending an interest she no longer felt until she heard them leave, then relaxed back on the sofa. Leon Masters had a nerve using a trick like that to try and trap her into meeting him. She had no doubt that he had been the one to insist on secrecy about his presence there today.

Thank heavens she hadn’t agreed to go. She didn’t want to meet Leon Masters again, not in any circumstances. And she didn’t want to probe this reluctance too deeply; sufficient to say she didn’t want to see him.

The book that had seemed so good earlier on no longer held her attention, her thoughts drifted again 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.’