LITMIR.BIZ

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were sinfully feminine, while her outer clothes were the ultimate in primness. Now, with the advent of Ben Radford, her wardrobe took on a hidden significance, her passionate nature concealed beneath a plain outer shell.

      It was as if she had been lying to herself for years—and that made her extremely uncomfortable as she slipped on a simple black jersey dress, with its contrasting white bolero jacket. Stepping into low black pumps, to lessen her height—Lance was shorter than her and conscious of it—she checked her hair and make-up in the mirror. She was pleased with her appearance, and knew she would be approved of, but was also aware that that was due to her projecting negative sexuality. She realised she didn’t like that at all.

      Such ambivalent thoughts made her even more unsettled, and so did Lance’s reaction to her when he arrived on the dot of seven-thirty. Not a second early or late, so that Kay had the unworthy idea he had been outside, checking his watch to make sure of the exact moment to ring the bell. Schooling her features not to show any doubt or irritation, she answered the door.

      ‘You look very nice, Kay, as always,’ he flattered, brushing his lips over her cheek.

      Kay had a fleeting wish that he would sweep her off her feet instead of the customary kiss on her cheek, then mentally rapped her knuckles, knowing whose fault that thought was. Lance, with his wings of grey in his hair, and conservative grey suit, would consider it an insult to her. Besides, the disloyal thought ripped at her, being beneath his dignity.

      ‘Mother’s arranged dinner for eight. We’d better not keep her waiting,’ Lance urged moments later, and Kay obediently collected her handbag.

      But these unsettling thoughts didn’t make for an enjoyable evening, although she did try. However, for the first time ever she allowed Mrs Young’s narrow-minded statements to draw her into an argument, which left that lady in a mood of high dudgeon and Lance bad-tempered, a fact which almost had her picking an argument with him, too. Which wasn’t like her at all. So that by the time they left, her relief was palpable. Lance saw her to her door, as always the perfect gentleman. Out of sorts, Kay felt the need to apologise. Unlocking the door, she turned.

      ‘I’m sorry I was such a grouch, Lance. Put it down to a headache. Did I utterly spoil your evening?’

      He wasn’t to be so easily mollified, though. ‘You should have told me you weren’t well, instead of taking it out on Mother. We could have left hours ago,’ he said testily, then, clearly feeling he’d made his point, relented. ‘I won’t come in. You’ll be better off in bed with some hot milk.’

      Irritably, Kay thought he sounded just like his mother, then retracted the awful thought and its implications. She’d always liked Lance for his consideration. ‘You’re right, of course. Goodnight, Lance,’ she murmured.

      He took her in his arms and his embrace was everything she expected—pleasurable, but unexciting, and when he let her go she felt disappointed and hated herself for it.

      ‘I’ll ring you tomorrow,’ Lance promised and left, his footsteps echoing down the stairs.

      ‘Damn,’ Kay muttered, annoyed at her own ambivalence. Turning to go inside, she shot round in alarm as a scraping sound came from the shadows at the end of the landing.

      ‘What didn’t you fancy, the milk or him?’ an all too familiar voice queried mockingly, and a darker shadow rose from the next flight of stairs and came towards the light from her door. Ben Radford stepped into the beam, eyes glittering in a way that set her whole system on edge. ‘That was Lance, I take it?’

      She chose not to answer either question. Because the shocking truth was that she hadn’t wanted Lance’s kiss at all, but this man’s. Now here he was, tempting and taunting her with every breath he took. She didn’t know who she loathed most—him or herself.

      ‘What do you want?’ she countered ungraciously, although she could guess.

      His slow smile said he knew. ‘To have that chat I promised. Aren’t you going to invite me in?’

      CHAPTER THREE

      KAY’S first instinct was to shut the door in Ben Radford’s face, but then she realised if she did that he would only keep on coming back until she did agree to see him. Better to get it over with now than have it looming over her head like the sword of Damocles.

      ‘It’s a little late for a social call,’ she pointed out acidly, yet reluctantly stepped back and allowed him to precede her inside.

      Closing the door made her feel as if she had locked herself into the cage with the tiger. She took several deep breaths before she joined him in the lounge. He seemed to grow in proportion to the room shrinking. It was impossible for her to be anything other than vitally aware of his presence. He would dominate any room, but she was determined he wouldn’t dominate her. Which meant keeping some measure of control over the proceedings.

      ‘Could we keep this short? As you obviously overheard, I have a headache.’ She spoke to his back as he studied his surroundings.

      He swung around then, the action smoothly graceful for all that his hands were tucked into the pockets of his trousers. He must have left his coat in his car for he was in shirt-sleeves, the cuffs tantalisingly turned back. It in no way minimised the effect of his presence—rather, it magnified it.

      ‘An interesting love-life you two will have, what with hot milk and headaches,’ he observed with lashings of irony.

      To her chagrin, Kay felt her cheeks flame. ‘That’s none of your damn business.’

      Her temper was water off a duck’s back to him as he shrugged. ‘Just making conversation.’

      She snapped her teeth, tossing her handbag on to the couch. He was being deliberately provocative, and rising to his bait was simply playing into his hands.

      ‘What do you want?’ she repeated hardily, raising her head in time to catch him taking a long, leisurely perusal of her from head to toe. It was as if he had actually touched her physically. As her nerves jolted into vibrant life, a tiny betraying gasp left her lips.

      Which brought his eyes to them in an instant. ‘Some coffee would be nice. I’ve been waiting for hours.’

      It was stunning the way her lips tingled as if he had stroked them. Her immediate response was to fly off the handle. ‘I’m not your servant! And I’m not responsible for you wasting your time on my doorstep!’ she very nearly shouted, chest heaving.

      Ben Radford ambled a step closer. ‘You have a very short fuse, Kay Napier, and something tells me Lance isn’t the man to deal with it.’

      ‘Your opinion leaves me cold. And stop talking about Lance that way. I like him just the way he is!’

      ‘Do you really? Wouldn’t you rather he showed some hot male blood? Showed he wanted you?’ he probed on regardless.

      Her hands clenched into tight fists. ‘I know he wants me. He doesn’t have to prove it all the time.’

      He shook his head. ‘He’s no match for you. You’re fire and he’s ice. You’ll scare the life out of him, so that he’ll never satisfy you. In the end you’ll emasculate him and he’ll hate you for it,’ he added derisively, making her gasp in indignation.

      ‘You’re loathsome!’

      He backed off thoughtfully, eyes piercing. ‘Why so outraged? Do you think you want a nice, cold, sexless little marriage?’

      That he should have discovered so easily the reason for her own sudden ambivalence made the need to hide it vitally important. Regaining control, she clasped her hands together. ‘You have no right to say those things to me. How I choose to live my life is my affair,’ she said with stolid dignity.

      To her relieved surprise that brought him up short and he dragged a hand through his hair, a sign that he wasn’t so cool himself. ‘You’re right. That wasn’t why I came here. You

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