Passionate Winter

The Passionate Winter

Carole Mortimer

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

CHAPTER ONE

‘WELL, I still think you’re making a mistake,’ repeated Karen, her youthful face pensive. ‘You’ve only known Gavin a couple of months.’

‘Long enough to know he isn’t quite the rake you’re making him out to be,’ Leigh grinned at her friend, grateful for her concern but hoping it would be needless. ‘Honestly, he’s quite harmless.’

She only hoped that she believed what she was saying. Gavin was harmless, at least she hoped so. She was now beginning to regret her impulsive acceptance of his invitation to stay at his father’s country home for the weekend. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now she wasn’t so sure. After all, Karen was right, she didn’t know Gavin that well. She was prevented from saying any more by the arrival of the boy she had just been talking to Karen about.

As usual Gavin looked perfectly relaxed and casual in a tee-shirt and tight-fitting jeans, making Leigh think how silly her thoughts had been. At eighteen, the same age as herself, Gavin was rather handsome in a boyish sort of way. Long dark brown hair grew low to his collar, a firm slightly immature chin jutting out purposefully below a constantly curving mouth that gave the impression of good humour, and laughing blue eyes, all added up to a very attractive picture indeed.

‘Hi,’ he smiled at the two girls before seating himself in one of the only two armchairs they possessed. ‘Ready?’ he asked Leigh.

‘If you are.’ Leigh picked up her tiny overnight case. She had only packed a spare tee-shirt and extra underwear, being assured by Gavin that she wouldn’t need anything else.

‘Be good,’ warned Karen as she let them out of the flat she shared with Leigh.

‘Of course,’ replied Leigh, wishing Karen wouldn’t keep making comments like that. She had felt perfectly relaxed about this weekend until Karen began giving her doubts.

Gavin opened the passenger door of his bright red Spitfire and helped Leigh into the low car. Leigh looked about her appreciatively at the low leather seats and the highly technical-looking dials. This was certainly nothing like her old Mini. The car had been an eighteenth birthday present to Gavin from his father and it was the first time Leigh had seen it.

‘What a super car!’ she exclaimed as Gavin climbed agilely in beside her.

Gavin flicked on the ignition before answering her. ‘It is, isn’t it?’ he grinned. ‘Dad picked it out for me.’

They were now driving through the busy streets of London and Leigh for one felt glad to be leaving the rush and bustle for a couple of days. At the moment, with Christmas only three weeks away, everyone was in too much of a hurry to consider other shoppers and Leigh was usually one of the people to get trampled underfoot.

‘The insurance must cost you a fortune for a car like this at your age.’ There was no doubt about it, this was a beautiful car, and Leigh knew it must have cost a small fortune.

Gavin shook his head, changing gear smoothly and efficiently. ‘Not me—Dad. He included the insurance as part of the present. I could never afford to pay it on my allowance.’

‘You must have a very wealthy father,’ she said, completely without guile, settling more comfortably into her low black leather bucket seat.

He grinned at her as they left the London traffic far behind them. ‘He is,’ he said without conceit. ‘Very much so.’

‘And he spoils you.’

‘No,’ Gavin replied slowly, ‘I wouldn’t ever say that. Oh, I know he bought me this car, but that was only because it was my coming of age birthday. He isn’t usually as generous. I mean, if I were spoilt would I bother to go to college so that I can learn a profession? Now would I?’

Leigh snorted with laughter. ‘You call art a profession?’

‘It is if you’re good enough.’

‘And are you?’ she asked mischievously, her violet-coloured eyes twinkling with amusement. ‘Good enough, I mean.’

Gavin looked slightly sheepish, some of his brash self-confidence deserting him for a moment. ‘I wish I were, but I’m afraid I’m going to be a failure at that as well as everything else I’ve ever tried to do.’

Leigh laughed lightly at his woebegone expression. ‘You’re only eighteen, Gavin, you can hardly have tried that many things.’

‘You think not?’ he grimaced. ‘Well, you’re wrong. I tried to get into university, and failed—Dad is paying for this course for me. I also tried racing driving, and failed.’

‘Racing driving!’ echoed Leigh, astounded at the thought. ‘Whatever for?’

Gavin glanced sideways at her. ‘That’s what Dad did. Didn’t I tell you? I thought I had.’

She shook her head. ‘I would certainly have remembered something like that. A racing driver! Was he really?’ she asked disbelievingly.

‘Mmm. And he was good at it too. I wasn’t.’

‘I should hope not!’ Leigh said in a disgusted voice. ‘That’s no profession for anyone, let alone someone your age.’

‘Dad was even younger when he started competitive driving.’

‘Your father had no right to push you into a profession he’s too old to compete in himself.’

Gavin laughed out aloud at her outrage. ‘Dad isn’t old. And he didn’t force me into anything—in fact he warned me against it.’

Leigh smiled knowingly. ‘So you instantly wanted to try it,’ she turned to look out of the window. ‘I know the feeling. My mother warned me against secretarial college, said I would be bored within a few weeks—and she was right too. It’s very disconcerting, isn’t it? Parents always seem to be right, don’t they?’

‘Well, Dad didn’t rub it in, if that’s what you mean. But to tell you the truth, I think he was quite relieved it didn’t work out. But then, so am I. Not at the time maybe, but I am now. It’s a very rough life.’

‘But exciting?’

Gavin shrugged his shoulders. ‘I suppose so. But my mother didn’t think so. She walked out and left Dad when I was three years old. Thank God she didn’t take me with her!’

Leigh made no comment, sensing an underlying bitterness at his mother’s early rejection of him. But had it been rejection? His mother might have just thought he would be better off with his father, although Leigh found this hard to believe. Who in their right mind would imagine that a three-year-old boy would be happier with a father who was constantly risking his life as a racing driver, a sport that seemed totally pointless to Leigh anyway, than with a mother who could look after him properly? It didn’t seem a very feasible explanation to Leigh, and yet what sort of woman could leave a little boy of three to such a fate?

‘Will it take long to reach your father’s house?’ she asked, changing the subject to something less painful to Gavin.

‘No,’ Gavin replied shortly. ‘About another hour now.’

‘But two hours in a car like my father’s,’ Leigh retorted dryly. ‘You did tell your father that I’d be with you, didn’t you?’

‘Of course,’ he replied evasively.

Leigh looked at him sharply, her earlier feelings of nervousness returning. ‘Gavin? You did, didn’t you?’

‘I said yes, didn’t I?’ he said abruptly, a frown marring his otherwise handsome features. ‘Why should I say I have if I haven’t?’

‘I don’t honestly know,’ she shook back her long dark hair from her face. ‘But I hope you aren’t lying to me, Gavin.’

He sighed angrily. ‘I told my father, I promise you.’ He looked sideways at her as he drove. ‘What did your parents say about this weekend? You said they wouldn’t approve.’

‘I didn’t tell them.’ Was it her imagination or had Gavin actually smiled when she said that? ‘I thought about it for a while, and then decided it seemed pointless to worry them when I was only going away for the weekend with a friend. I’ve done it dozens of times before, and just because you happen to be a male friend it shouldn’t make any difference.’

Actually Leigh felt rather guilty about this omission to her parents. Usually she told them everything, but as she wasn’t romantically involved with Gavin this weekend seemed quite harmless. She wasn’t sure her parents would have felt the same way, though. She wasn’t even sure she did now.

‘Well, it does to me,’ Gavin laughed. ‘A great deal of difference.’

‘Gavin!’ she said reproachfully. ‘I told you, I’m not interested in you that way. You’re just a friend, that’s all. Anyway, we’re too young to be thinking of marriage.’

Gavin looked startled. ‘Marriage! Who said anything about marriage? I certainly didn’t.’

‘Gavin!’ Leigh half turned in her seat to look at him. ‘If you weren’t talking about marriage, just what were you—–? Oh!’

He laughed as she broke off in confusion. ‘It certainly wasn’t marriage,’ he chuckled. ‘Don’t look so shocked, Leigh. Stop being such a prude. Don’t you know it goes on all the time?’

‘Not with me it doesn’t!’ she said indignantly, crossing her arms protectively across her chest. ‘I think I’ve changed my mind about this weekend, Gavin. I didn’t realise what you had in mind when I agreed to come.’

‘Relax,’ he said abruptly. ‘We’re nearly there now anyway. At least see what the place looks like before talking of going home.’

‘I’d rather not if you don’t mind,’ she said stiffly.

His only reply was to put his foot down harder on the accelerator. Not that Leigh had for one moment been contemplating jumping out. She wasn’t that stupid, or that hysterical. She just felt an absolute fool. How could she have got herself into such a situation? Karen had warned her, her own subconscious had warned her, but as usual she had ignored all the signs. And now she was stranded in the middle of nowhere with a boy she hardly knew, she could admit that now when it was too late, and she had no way of getting herself out of this mess.

And Gavin knew it! This was what annoyed her more than anything, and at this precise moment she could cheerfully have hit him. But that would get her nowhere—except perhaps crash the two of them into the nearest ditch! Ooh, she could scream, she felt so helpless. And Gavin’s behaviour in this affair was absolutely disgusting. She looked at him again. All right, so his behaviour was disgusting and he was a powerful boy, but he couldn’t actually force her to go to bed with him. Even the thought of it made her shudder. No, she should be able to protect herself. Hadn’t she had plenty of practice at fighting boys with her two older brothers?

Gavin glanced quickly at her pale set face. ‘For God’s sake!’ he snapped impatiently. ‘Just calm down, will you? We’ll be at the house in a moment and I don’t want to have to try and force a near-hysterical female inside. Anyway, you might find it isn’t so bad once you get there.’

‘And I might find it’s worse!’

Gavin’s mouth tightened angrily and he remained silent until he turned into a long driveway, only speaking to her when he had at last drawn up in front of the house and turned off the ignition. He got out of the car, locking the door his side before coming round to open Leigh’s door for her. Leigh had thought of locking the door against him, but as he had the key the idea seemed rather pointless.

‘Come on.’ He pulled at her arm until she stumbled blindly out of the car. ‘And don’t make too much noise.’

‘Why?’ she whispered, their feet crunching noisily on the gravel of the driveway. ‘Is your father here after all?’ she asked hopefully.

‘No, he isn’t!’ Gavin snapped. ‘But we do have a housekeeper and her husband who’s the gardener. They live in the basement flat and I don’t want you waking them up.’

Leigh’s spirits lifted a little. So there was someone in the house. Perhaps—–?

‘No,’ Gavin shook his head as if guessing her thoughts. ‘The Nichols are very broadminded. They have to be in this house.’

‘I’m not surprised!’ Leigh said tartly, tugging at the firm painful grip he had of her arm. How could she have ever thought he was nice! Her mother had always said her trusting nature would get her into trouble one day. Why was her mother always right?

‘I was referring to my father, not myself.’ Gavin walked with long strides into the house, dragging the reluctant Leigh behind him.

‘Your father!’ The more she heard of Gavin’s father the less she liked him.

‘Sure,’ he grinned at her. ‘Have you never heard of Piers Sinclair? I told you he was a racing car driver—well, now he designs them. Surely you must have heard of him, I thought everyone had.’

Leigh shook her head slowly, stopping suddenly. Yes, she did remember reading an article about someone of that name. Now what had it said?

‘Probably a bit before your time,’ remarked Gavin, flicking a switch in the entrance hall and instantly throwing the huge reception area into a radiant flood of light. Reflections of light hit different corners of the hallway from the chandelier set in the ceiling high above them and Leigh couldn’t hold back her gasp of admiration. It was like something out of the glossy magazines she occasionally flicked through looking for her dream house—deep pile carpets thick enough to sink your feet into, and all the expensive luxury she had never expected to see out of those glossy pages. She hadn’t realised Gavin came from such a rich background; he never seemed to have any more money than the rest of them and dressed just as casually.

Gavin had now thrown open the big double doors that led into a room Leigh assumed to be the lounge. The decor in here was in autumn browns and golds and even in her discomfiture she could appreciate the elegant beauty of it.

Gavin put down her small overnight case which now seemed rather incongruous in this magnificent house. Walking confidently over to the drinks cabinet, that Leigh felt sure must be a genuine antique, he poured out two glasses full of liquid and handed one out towards her.

‘No, thanks.’ Leigh put her hands effectively behind her back so that she couldn’t be made to take the glass. ‘I don’t drink,’ she said in an effort at lightness. The atmosphere between them had become too tense for comfort, besides that she had the feeling she was going to need all her wits to get out of this situation. ‘Remember?’

He still held out the glass. ‘Make this an exception,’ he said insistently.

Leigh shook her head again. ‘I don’t want it,’ she said firmly.

‘Take it!’ Gavin ordered. ‘It will help steady your nerves.’

‘They don’t happen to be unsteady!’ She glared at him with dislike. ‘And I don’t like alcohol, you know that.’ She brought one of her hands forward to brush back her dark swathe of long hair, and Gavin, thinking she had relented, pushed the glass at her in a triumphant gesture. The amber liquid upset all over her dark blue jeans and the coldness of it made her gasp.

‘Ooh!’ She brushed frantically at the fast soaking in liquid, wrinkling her nose delicately at the stickiness of her legs.

Gavin pulled out a handkerchief and began mopping up as best he could, bending down on one knee to gain better access to the largest of the wet patches on her jeans.

Leigh, seeing her chance of escape, pushed him over, and not waiting to see any more she ran blindly to the door. She found herself in an unfamiliar darkened room and realising her mistake turned to re-enter the lounge, only to be stopped in her tracks by the harsh anger of a voice she didn’t recognise.

‘Gavin! What the hell are you doing on the floor?’

Leigh resisted an impulse to chuckle at the ridiculous picture Gavin must make lying on the floor, unwilling to draw this man’s attention to herself. She wondered how Gavin was going to explain himself to this obviously angry man.

‘Dad!’ Gavin exclaimed, and Leigh shrank back against the door. Piers Sinclair! And from what his son had mentioned about him he certainly wasn’t going to help the situation in any way. ‘Why are you here?’ he asked his father lamely.

‘I happen to live here. I take it you have no objection to my staying in my own home?’ the voice asked scathingly. Leigh had to admit that she felt rather curious about the man that went with that voice, its deep tone husky and attractive.

‘Er … no … But I…’

‘Yes? God, it smells like a brewery in here! How much have you had to drink, Gavin? And where’s Lee?’

So he had told his father he was bringing her here after all! She felt some of the tension leaving her rigidly held body, or did that man assume, as Gavin had, that she intended sleeping with his son! If so, Gavin was right and the Nichols’ must have very broad minds to tolerate such behaviour from their employer. But if the money was right, who were they to complain?

‘Leigh is …’ Gavin hesitated. ‘Leigh is in your study.’

‘In my—–! What the hell is he doing in there?’

Before Leigh could move further back into the room the study door was flung open and she stood in the sudden glare of the lights staring at the silhouette of the man she only knew as a name, her violet eyes huge and terrified. The man before her took a step forward and pulled her effortlessly into the lounge.

Leigh stared up into a pair of deep blue eyes set in a ruggedly handsome face. At the moment his features were grim and forbidding, but even so Leigh found him completely devastating. It was perfectly obvious that this was Gavin’s father, the likeness between them was too great to be any other. But whereas Gavin’s face was still young and boyish, this man’s was hard and cynical, as if he had seen all life had to offer and found it wanting. He was aged between thirty-five and forty and Leigh found herself trembling at his nearness.

No man had ever affected her like this before and she found it impossible to look away from his narrowing eyes. Dark brown hair, almost black, flecked with grey at the temples, grew low on his collar and the sideburns low down his jawline. He was dressed in close-fitting black trousers and a black silk shirt unbuttoned almost to the low waistband of his trousers, and looked very lean and attractive. Over these he wore a thick sheepskin jacket, and Leigh found herself wishing he would take it off so that she could see him better. No wonder Gavin’s mother had left such a man! Any woman would have difficulty holding and keeping him by her side.

He dropped her arm, stepping back to survey her tousled dark hair and dishevelled appearance before turning his mocking eyes on his now standing son. Gavin was studiously brushing down his denims, effectively avoiding his father’s eyes. ‘Well?’ Piers Sinclair demanded, his expression deceptively lazy. To Leigh he had the look of a sleepy feline, a black panther perhaps.

‘Well what?’ Gavin asked evasively.

Gavin was playing for time and Leigh knew it, unfortunately for Gavin, so did his father. But he had told his father about her—or at least, he had told him something. Whatever the information had been she felt sure Piers Sinclair had not expected her to be here. Then why had he asked about Leigh? It was all too puzzling for her and she sighed deeply.

Piers Sinclair looked at her with cold indifference. ‘As my son doesn’t seem forthcoming perhaps you wouldn’t mind supplying a few simple answers to a few simple questions. Like, who the hell are you? What are you doing here, if that isn’t a rather too stupid question,’ he added enigmatically. ‘And why do you smell like a whisky bottle? Unless of course you’ve drunk the contents of one, which wouldn’t surprise me—your eyes look over-bright and your appearance isn’t exactly perfection.’

Leigh gasped in disbelief. Somewhere along the line she had come out of this as the person in the wrong, how she didn’t know, but she felt her temper rising at this man’s unwarranted rudeness. ‘My name, Mr Sinclair, happens to be Leigh, Leigh Stanton.’ She saw dawning realisation in his eyes and carried on, her voice stilted with disapproval at his attitude. ‘I’m here because your son chose to bring me here. And I smell of whisky because Gavin tipped a whole glassful down my jeans. And may I add that after meeting you I understand his actions much better than I did.’

‘Really, Miss Stanton?’ His voice had softened dangerously, and Leigh saw that even Gavin was beginning to shift uncomfortably. ‘It this true?’ Piers Sinclair demanded of his son.

‘Yes, I suppose so,’ mumbled Gavin.

‘Don’t ever lie to me again, Gavin!’ his father said harshly. ‘You know it’s the one thing I will not tolerate, not after your mother.’

‘But I—I didn’t lie.’ Gavin’s eyes, so much like the older man’s, began to look pleading and Leigh began to feel sorry for him. ‘I did tell you I was bringing Leigh here for the weekend.’

She glared accusingly at Piers Sinclair. So he actually condoned his son’s outrageous behaviour. How dare he! No wonder Gavin behaved in this fashion with such a father for an example.

As if reading her thoughts Piers Sinclair smiled with mocking amusement, and walking lazily over to the drinks cabinet helped himself to a liberal amount of whisky before turning to face them again. At the moment his not undoubted anger was directed towards his son, but Leigh was tensing in anticipation of his attention turning on her, as she surely knew it would.

Piers Sinclair looked coldly at Gavin. ‘You told me you were bringing someone called Lee here, knowing full well that I would think it was that boy Lee you share your flat with,’ he put up a silencing hand as Gavin tried to speak. ‘All right, I accept that you didn’t lie, but you certainly didn’t tell the truth either. You omitted to mention the most important fact, that Lee was—no, is a female.’

‘It had the female spelling, L-E-I-G-H,’ she put in resentfully.

Those blue eyes flickered over her contemptuously. ‘We didn’t actually go into the spelling of it during our telephone conversation.’

Leigh picked up her case and marched purposefully towards the door. ‘I couldn’t give a damn what you talked about during your telephone call. If you and your son will excuse me, I am going home.’

‘Don’t let me spoil your little weekend,’ put in Piers Sinclair smoothly, discarding the thick sheepskin jacket in the warmth of the room. ‘Just try and forget I’m here.’

It was something Leigh knew she could never do under any circumstances, let alone now when she was alone here with him and his son. In every way that Gavin was still a boy this man was very much a man. Her eyes were drawn again and again to the dark sensual face of Piers Sinclair, the power of his body clearly outlined in the close-fitting trousers and shirt he wore, the shirt clinging to his hair-roughened chest.

Leigh drew herself to her full height, and being a tall girl she was usually on a level or near level with most of the men she knew, but Piers Sinclair was at least a head taller than she was and she felt at a distinct disadvantage. ‘I don’t know the type of person Gavin usually mixes with, Mr Sinclair, but let me tell you now that if I’d known what Gavin’s plans were for this weekend I would never have come here.’

He sat down in one of the soft leather armchairs, resting the ankle of one leg on the knee of the other, his eyes veiled and mocking. ‘It pretty obvious to me that you were progressing very satisfactorily until I arrived,’ he gave a nod to Gavin. ‘A fact for which I now apologise. If you’d explained the situation to me earlier, Gavin, I wouldn’t have burst in here and broke up your evening.’