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black, sardonic grimace twisted his mouth. ‘There’s one more lesson you must learn today about men, Audrey,’ he growled. ‘When it comes to sex they’re basically animals. Sometimes, they want what they want when they want it, and who they’re having it with doesn’t figure largely in their minds. I’ve been celibate now for nearly a year. Judging by what just happened, I think my monastic existence is about to come to an end.

      ‘But not with you, my dear young girl,’ he added, slicing her with a rueful look. ‘Not with you... Come on. I’m taking you home.’

      CHAPTER TWO

      MONDAY morning found Audrey in a turmoil. She didn’t want to go to work, didn’t want to face a sniggering Diane or a sulkily hostile Russell, didn’t want to spend the day pretending everything was fine when it wasn’t.

      Slumping down on the side of her bed, she buried her face in her hands. But there were no tears left to be spilled. She’d cried herself out last Friday night, cried and cried till she was drained of tears, drained of energy, drained of all emotion.

      Saturday she had spent in a deep dark depression, Sunday in an apathetic gloom.

      Now, the working week was beginning and her life was going on, whether she wanted it to or not. She had no alternative but to pull herself together and get on with living. But before she could do that she had to face, once and for all, the truth behind what had happened last Friday.

      Her head lifted from her hands, a confusing pain squeezing at her heart. Which had hurt her the most? she puzzled. Russell’s betrayal? Or Elliot Knight’s speedy defection?

      She wasn’t sure. She wasn’t sure about anything any more. All she knew was what she had always known—or suspected—about herself. That she was a complete failure where men were concerned. Russell’s only reason for making love to her had been greed, Elliot’s pity. Not that his brief kiss could be termed ‘making love’.

      She would never forget his shock at his own behaviour. What on earth was he doing, he’d obviously thought, kissing this silly little nincompoop? And then getting carried away. No doubt he had to have been very frustrated at the time, Audrey decided bitterly. Nothing else could possibly explain a man like him turning uncontrollably passionate with someone like her. Russell had spelt it out. She had about as much sex appeal as a squashed frog!

      Russell...

      She could hardly bear to think of him, to think of what he had done. Or, more to the point, what she had allowed him to do. She was a fool—a stupid, naïve, plain, insecure little fool!

      More desolation was about to sweep in when Elliot’s compliments filtered back to her mind, the ones he’d insisted were sincere. He had said she had lovely skin, nice eyes and a very kissable mouth. Had he been merely flattering her, trying to make her feel better? Or could it be true? Her heart lifted a fraction. Even Russell had said she wasn’t that bad looking.

      She stood up and walked hesitantly over to the cheval mirror in the corner, her hand lifting to trace over her face and mouth as she stared into the mirror. In her opinion, her skin always looked too pale, her eyes too big, her mouth too little girlish. But yes...she supposed she wasn’t really ugly. Merely colourless.

      Her gaze lifted to her hair and she shuddered. Nothing colourless there.

      Russell’s hurtful comment about her clothes being ghastly jumped back into her mind and her eyes dropped to the hot pink suit she was wearing. A frown creased her brow as she accepted that, while it wasn’t exactly ghastly, it certainly didn’t look good. Odd, because Lavinia had a similar suit—in red—and it looked great on her. Audrey knew her figure was not as spectacular as her stepmother’s but it was still quite good. Slender, with enough curves in all the right places.

      Her frown deepened in frustration. If only she had some fashion sense of her own, some confidence in her own judgement.

      But she didn’t. She never had had. She wished there were someone other than Lavinia whose opinion she could ask, someone mature and objective who would be totally honest with her. It worried Audrey that perhaps Lavinia was saying things looked nice on her simply because she didn’t want to hurt her feelings.

      Her mind slid, for the umpteenth time since last Friday evening, to Elliot Knight.

      Elliot would tell her how it was. Elliot was honest, to the point of being blunt. Elliot...

      He had driven her home in grim silence, depositing her on her doorstep with some very strong parting words.

      ‘I refuse to apologise again for what happened, Audrey,’ he said sharply. ‘You must take some of the responsibility. You’re a grown woman, and it’s about time you started acting and thinking like one. Firstly, in future don’t go letting any personable stranger talk you into going back to his place as you did with me this afternoon. It’s naïve and dangerous. Secondly, don’t go to bed with any man unless you, yourself, want to go to bed with him. Thirdly, be your own person in every way. Form your own opinions about who you are and where you’re going. You only have one life, Audrey. In the end, you’re the one who has to live with your decisions. Make sure they are yours.’

      He had gone to leave her, then added over his shoulder, ‘I won’t be calling you, Audrey. Don’t take this personally. Any continuing friendship with me at this point in time is not in your best interests. Of course, if you’re ever in any real trouble, please don’t hesitate to ring and I’ll help in any way I can.’

      Audrey sank down on the end of her bed with a sigh. She had to admit that wanting some advice about fashion hardly constituted real trouble. Not that she would dare ring him anyway. Quite frankly, she wouldn’t have the nerve. Just thinking about Elliot answering in that unswervingly direct voice of his made her quiver. In fact, thinking about Elliot at all was proving unnerving.

      Her stomach curled as she recalled how it had felt when he’d kissed her, when his tongue had thrust deep into her mouth. Her heart had leapt madly, and the blood had roared around her head for a few seconds. At the time, she had been stunned by the raw sexual desire that had flared within her. She had never felt anything like it with Russell. Even now, just thinking about it sent her into a spin. She kept wondering what would have happened if her shock hadn’t made her struggle, if Elliot hadn’t stopped.

      The thought started her heart racing. Audrey strongly suspected that it was these intense physical reactions Elliot could evoke in her—not so much Russell’s treachery—that had caused her such distress on Friday night. She’d been upset because she had not wanted Elliot to take her home. She had wanted him to take her to bed. There! She had admitted it. In fact, if she didn’t know better she might believe she had fallen out of love with one man and fallen in love with another in a single afternoon! Which was crazy!

      Though perhaps not so crazy, Audrey conceded, if she had never been in love with Russell in the first place. Perhaps she’d merely been attracted to his good looks, flattered by his attention, seduced by his lies. Silly little Audrey, craving love, desperate to believe any assertions of affection. She shuddered as she recalled all his lies whenever he’d coaxed her into bed. Clearly he’d been laughing at her the whole time.

      And rightly so, she decided wretchedly. She was a gullible young idiot. She was still being an idiot, imagining she was in love with another man now, just because he had aroused her with a passionate kiss.

      Audrey shook her head in dismay. Dear me, when was she ever going to grow up and see things as they really were, and not as her romantic heart wanted to see them? Elliot was a handsome, sexy, sophisticated man who had acted gallantly towards her, then stirred her with a kiss at a vulnerable moment. That didn’t mean she was in love with him. Infatuated, perhaps. That was all.

      But if she wasn’t in love with Elliot, why did the thought of never seeing him again produce such wrenching feelings inside her? Such black despair?

      Audrey jumped to her feet, infuriated with herself. She was sick of feeling down, sick of self-pity,

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