LITMIR.BIZ

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caught a gleam of amusement in Zan’s heavy-lidded eyes which made her aware he was following both conversations.

      Evading the issue, she answered, ‘I don’t actually work for Mr Power. I’m only a temp.’

      Overhearing the last few words, Cyrus Oates exclaimed, ‘A temp?’ Then to Zan, ‘You don’t get many secretaries look that good. Guess you won’t want to part with her, huh?’

      Catching Annis’s eye, Zan said with smooth meaning, ‘I shall certainly be taking steps to keep her with me on a more permanent basis.’

      The subtle threat made a shiver crawl over her skin and her palms grow clammy with cold perspiration.

      Lunch over, business matters apparently settled to everyone’s satisfaction, they made their farewells and set off for the bank. It was nearly half-past four by the time the meeting was finished, and Annis, who had attracted quite a few curious and interested glances, was feeling stiff and tired. Though she was not normally prone to headaches, her head throbbed dully and the back of her throat was rough and dry.

      Outside it was a bleak, prematurely dark afternoon, with more than a hint of snow in the air.

      Turning the BMW into the traffic stream, Zan remarked, ‘It’s too late to go back to the office. I’ll take you straight home.’

      ‘Really, there’s no need to go to all that trouble,’ she said stiltedly. ‘If you drop me at the next corner I can easily get the Tube.’

      ‘It’s no trouble.’ His tone was quietly adamant.

      After a pause, when the expected opposition failed to materialise, he asked, ‘Have you lived at Fairfield Court long?’

      ‘About three years.’ She tried to hold at bay the hurt, the bitter memories crowding in on her.

      ‘Do you like being there?’

      ‘Not particularly.’ The modern, characterless flat, with its small, square rooms, was functional rather than pleasing.

      ‘Where does your brother live?’

      Annis stiffened at the mention of Richard. Then, her voice as casual as she could make it, said, ‘He and Linda have a house in Notting Hill.’

      ‘Have you any more family?’

      Like flicking a lighted match into a keg of gunpowder, that innocent question seemed to explode inside her head. She wanted to strike at him, to claw her nails down his handsome face, to watch him bleed.

      Badly shaken by that flare of raw, primitive passion, the violence of her feelings, hands clenched into fists, she shook her head mutely.

      Glancing at the frozen blankness of her face, Zan knew he’d hit a nerve. Though he didn’t know how or why. There was so much about this woman that he didn’t know. But he intended to.

      When they reached Fairfield Court, Zan accompanied her to the door and waited while she unlocked it, but to her very great relief he made no move to follow her inside.

      As she said a coldly formal, ‘Thank you,’ he stooped and touched his lips to hers in another of those light but proprietorial kisses that left her feeling as if she’d been caught in some terrifying whirlpool.

      ‘Au revoir, Annis.’

      A hand to her mouth, she watched him slide behind the wheel and drive away. She was still standing like a statue in the doorway when his car disappeared from sight.

      Once inside she made herself a strong cup of tea, took a couple of aspirins and reviewed the catastrophic events of the day.

      He’d managed so easily, so effortlessly to trick her into accepting the assignment at Blair’s. But, hating him as she did, and frightened by the way each meeting added more fuel to her desire for revenge, she knew she couldn’t go on working for him.

      Anne and Sheila were both first-class secretaries, and on Monday, no matter what kind of upheaval it involved, she would send one of them in her place, and let him do his worst!

      If he tried to ring her she would put the phone down, and if he came to her door she would refuse to open it. So long as she was careful, she would never have to see him again.

      A hot bath alleviated some of her aches and pains and made her feel a great deal better. But, showing she was still very much on edge, she jumped when the phone shrilled.

      ‘Annis?’ Stephen’s voice held a mixture of triumph and excitement. ‘I’ve got tickets for Malibu, for this evening. I know it’s short notice but you will come, won’t you?’

      ‘Well, I don’t really…’

      ‘I thought you’d be pleased.’ He was instantly deflated.

      ‘Any other time I would have been, only I don’t feel much like going out tonight. In any case, I promised to be on hand this weekend to take care of the twins if Linda has to go into hospital, and I—’

      ‘Before we left work I had a word with Richard,’ Stephen broke in with plaintive eagerness, ‘and he told me it might be several days yet before anything happens. Please change your mind…I’m sure it’ll buck you up no end.’

      Reminding herself yet again of just how much she owed Stephen, Annis forced herself to say brightly, ‘You’re probably right. Very well, I’ll come.’

      ‘Wonderful!’ Once again he was bubbling over. ‘I’ll pick you up in about an hour.’

      When Stephen knocked she was ready, resolved for his sake to at least appear to be enjoying herself.

      ‘You look marvellous,’ he told her, eyeing the simple, but elegant dress whose colour perfectly matched her eyes.

      ‘Thank you.’ She smiled at him, then asked, ‘How on earth did you manage to get tickets for Malibu? I thought they’d been sold out for months.’

      ‘You’ll see,’ he said mysteriously. Adding, ‘I’ve a taxi outside, so we’d better get off. We haven’t a lot of time.’

      Why a taxi? she wondered. But perhaps he was intending to have a drink? Make the evening a festive one? Full of childlike pleasure and importance, he was clearly labouring under great excitement.

      Only when they reached the theatre, and it was too late, did she realise why.

      In the foyer, two people were waiting for them. A well-dressed woman with black curly hair and a superb figure, and the man Annis had promised herself she would never need to see again.

      Coming face to face with him so unexpectedly gave her the same sensation as dropping in a high-speed lift, making her stomach clench and her heart begin to race with anger and alarm.

      ‘Good evening, Miss Warrener… Leighton,’ Zan said pleasantly.

      ‘Sorry we’re a bit late…’ Stephen began.

      Zan waved away his apology. ‘I’d like to introduce Mrs Gilvary, my—’

      ‘Don’t be so formal, Zan,’ the woman cut in with a teasing glance. Her smile friendly, she held out her hand first to Annis then to Stephen. ‘I’m Helen, Zan’s sister… How nice to meet you.’

      As they were shaking hands the call bell went. Unable to think of any way out of the situation without hurting Stephen, Annis allowed herself to be ushered into the auditorium.

      With smooth panache Zan placed her between the younger man and himself, remarking as he did so, ‘I’m glad you were able to join us, especially as it’s such short notice.’ Sotto voce, he added sardonically, ‘But then you told me you always try to please Leighton.’

      Annis gave him an inimical glance. ‘In this instance it was Stephen trying to please me.’

      Catching the last few words, Stephen said eagerly, ‘I knew you wanted to see Malibu, and when Mr Power said he had two spare tickets and suggested we join him…’

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