LITMIR.BIZ

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her head, she met those thickly lashed, heavy-lidded eyes with a cool challenge which almost faltered at the answering gleam which leapt into their green-gold depths.

      In what she could now see was going to be a war of attrition, she would need every ounce of her fighting spirit, she thought, shakily. And was more than thankful when any further exchange was precluded by the lights going down and the orchestra breaking into a lively overture.

      Living up to its notices, the musical proved to be bright and fast-moving. But though her eyes were fixed on the stage Annis took scarcely any of it in, all her attention, her awareness focused on the dark, powerful man beside her.

      During the interval they had a drink in the bar and discussed the show. If Annis found little to say, no one appeared to notice.

      Alternately hot and shivering, her limbs aching, her throat sore, she couldn’t wait for the evening to end.

      As soon as the final curtain went down to enthusiastic applause, with unobtrusive efficiency Zan shepherded them out ahead of the crush.

      Demonstrating the effect of power and money, his car had been brought round and was standing by the kerb, a light drifting of snow beginning to settle on its shining bonnet.

      When Stephen mumbled something about getting a taxi, Zan shook his head. ‘You might have problems on a night like this. I’ll drop you both.’

      His tone brooked no argument, and Annis felt sure that had been his intention all along.

      Only when she’d been handed into the front passenger seat did she fully appreciate the smoothness of the operation.

      ‘Zan’s marvellous when it comes to organising things,’ Helen remarked, echoing her thoughts.

      ‘That’s how you get to the top.’ Stephen’s approving comment precluded the tart rejoinder Annis had been about to make.

      ‘And stay at the top,’ Helen added for good measure, making them sound as if they were forming the Zan Power Admiration Society.

      As the two at the rear struck up a conversation, Annis, sitting silent and aloof beside the man who had always been her bête noire, puzzled over the situation. Dazzled by Zan and all he stood for, Stephen seemed to find nothing amiss in the way they’d been paired off, but it struck her as strange that Helen Gilvary, who was laughing now, showed no resentment at being relegated to the back seat.

      Expertly threading his way through the late-night traffic, Zan addressed the younger man. ‘I’ll take Helen home first. You live at Knightsbridge, don’t you?’

      ‘That’s right…’ By the time Stephen had given him the exact location they were turning into Elwood Place, a quiet street in Mayfair lined with elegant houses.

      When they drew up outside the porticoed entrance of number fifteen, Helen smiled and said a pleasant goodnight to them both before getting out.

      Displaying his usual courtesy, Zan accompanied her to the door. When he bent his dark head to kiss her cheek, she put her arms around him and kissed him back with obvious affection.

      It was a comparatively short drive to where Stephen lived. When he got out, with a reckless determination to rile Zan Annis followed him on to the snowy pavement.

      Standing on tiptoe to touch her lips to his, she said, ‘Goodnight, and thank you, darling.’

      He looked as startled and delighted as a man who had come into riches beyond his wildest dreams.

      When she got back into the car, Zan’s face was as black as thunder. ‘Fasten your seatbelt,’ he ordered brusquely, and drove on, his mouth a thin, angry line.

      Suddenly doubting the wisdom of her action, Annis leaned back against the head-rest and closed her eyes.

      A finger flicking her cheek aroused her and she sat up, half stupefied, to find they were outside Fairfield Court.

      ‘Where’s your key?’ Zan asked curtly.

      Remembering his furious face when she’d kissed Stephen, she cravenly found herself wishing she hadn’t deliberately provoked him.

      ‘There’s really no need for you to get out.’

      Ignoring her uneasy protest, he made a swift search through her bag and located her key. ‘Wait here.’

      She followed him a moment later, shivering as soon as the wind whipped round her.

      He turned on the fire and drew the curtains before helping her out of her silver fun-fur. Then, looming tall and dark and overpowering in the small room, he said coldly, ‘I should put you over my knee for that little piece of bravado.’

      ‘I don’t know what you mean,’ she muttered.

      ‘You know perfectly well what I mean. I’m aware you only did it to annoy me, but you shouldn’t have raised the poor devil’s hopes like that, when it’s obvious that you don’t care a jot for him.’

      ‘Well, that’s where you’re wrong! I do care.’

      ‘Only in as far as it affects your brother.’

      Seeing her freeze, he asked silkily, ‘Did you think I wasn’t aware how Leighton has been propping him up? Covering for him? It’s common knowledge. I’ve known for weeks.’

      Annis gazed at him with horrified eyes.

      He smiled mirthlessly, and she found herself abstractedly noting the excellence of his mouth and teeth.

      ‘I also know, despite the fact that he’s a married man with a family, how you still tend to worry about him, mother him…’

      ‘But how could you know?’ she protested. ‘Until last night you’d never set eyes on me.’

      He shook his head. ‘I saw you about three weeks ago. You came to Leighton’s office when he was working late one evening. Then you walked out together and got into his car. I made some enquiries, found out who you were…’

      Her heart missed a beat, then went racing on as she realised he’d spoken too casually to mean what she’d thought he meant.

      ‘I hoped very much that he would bring you to the party. If he hadn’t, I would have had to think up some other way of meeting you.’

      Her head throbbing, her legs feeling as if they might buckle under her, Annis dropped into the nearest chair.

      Studying the mauve shadows like bruises beneath her eyes, the translucent skin stretched tight over delicate bones, the faint dew of perspiration on her upper lip, Zan remarked, ‘You look terrible.’ Towering over her, he put a cool hand on her burning forehead. ‘I think you’re coming down with flu.’

      She jerked away and muttered, ‘Don’t touch me.’ Then, at the end of her tether, ‘I wish you’d go. Leave me alone. Stay away from me permanently.’

      His lips took on a wry slant. ‘I can’t stay away from you any more than I can stop breathing.’

      Tilting her chin, he looked deep into her cloudy eyes. ‘I intend to break down those defences, melt the ice you’ve surrounded yourself with, make you want me as much as I want you.’

      There was a dark, brooding passion in his face, a relentless purpose that made her shiver.

      ‘You’re wasting your time,’ she told him raggedly. ‘There’s no way I’ll ever feel like that about you.’

      Apparently unperturbed, he said, ‘You already feel more strongly about me than you do about Leighton.’

      She jumped to her feet. ‘That’s quite true. I’m fond of Stephen. You I hate. Now will you get out? I never want to see you again.’

      ‘That might be difficult as you’re working for me.’

      ‘I’m not. Not any longer. If you really need help, on Monday I’ll send you a competent secretary, but that’s…’

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