Partners in Love

by Saunders, Jean

  “Just as long as you don’t pre-judge. I seem to remember a delectable little spitfire absolutely sending me to hell with her eyes for moving into her personal space. Wasn’t that the way you put it?”

  “I didn’t know who you were then. And it wouldn’t have made any difference if I had.” It was no good. The resentment was still there. She couldn’t hide it.

  Luke said nothing for a few minutes. When he spoke again his tone was a few degrees colder than before.

  “How did such a charming man as James Pollard have a daughter like you? The outer covering might be pure honey, but it’s solid rock inside, isn’t it?”

  Robin didn’t answer. She knew that if she started, all the pent-up emotions she still hadn’t fully unleashed since Mrs. Fowler’s death would come rushing to the surface. Luke’s words had caught her on the raw. Solid rock inside ... if he only knew how vulnerable she felt at that moment. How badly she grieved for that charming lady, and how her generous heart was full to overflowing with this churlish man’s assessment of her. Solid rock — she was never that.

  Couldn’t he see the effect of so much change in her life in so short a time? But why should he bother to understand how a woman felt? His type of man saw women in two contexts only—as underlings to work for them, or as bedmates. Thank God she had elected to be the former, Robin thought. He had made it plain that he desired her, but he felt only lust, not love. Robin doubted if Luke Burgess even knew the meaning of love.

  It was a relief when Bill stirred from his dozing in the back seat, when the long stretch of motorway came to an end as Luke put on the left-hand indicator in the car and they moved on to ordinary roads again.

  “I thought you’d like to cross another Brunel masterpiece,” he said conversationally. “The Clifton suspension bridge over the river Avon. It looks better from a distance, really, especially when it’s lit at night with strings of electric lights and looks very delicate. You’ll be able to see it like that later.”

  Robin flexed her tired muscles. It had been a long drive; they had stopped only once for cups of tea at a service station. Luke paid the bridge toll and they cruised over the bridge, the narrow river winding its way through the Avon Gorge a dizzying distance below them. On the other side Luke turned left again, and they drove through roads bordered by wide green stretches of grass, with thickets of trees and elegant town houses in the background.

  “Is this Bristol?” Robin said in surprise. “I expected it to be more congested with houses and buildings.”

  “Not this part. This is Clifton, where I live and where you’ll be living too. Bill’s car is parked at my place, so when we’ve let him out, I’ll take you to your flat and you can get settled in.”

  It was suddenly all unreal. The thought of being dumped in a strange flat, in an unfamiliar city, among total strangers was beginning to tie her stomach in knots. She must have been crazy to agree to this. And once Bill had departed, she would be alone with Luke. She didn’t want him around, but if he wasn’t, she’d feel entirely on her own.

  As if he knew exactly what was going through her mind, Luke’s hand covered hers again for a brief instant.

  “Don’t worry, Robin, I won’t abandon you until you’ve got your bearings,” he said.

  “Thanks. At the moment I feel a bit like a lamb being led to the slaughter,” she muttered.

  What was wrong with her? Where was the pioneering spirit that made her always eager for new experiences? For the moment it seemed to have deserted her, and tiredness was making her feel dull-witted. That was it, Robin thought. She was just tired, and once she was able to have a long soak in a fragrant bath, she would feel restored.

  “Is there a phone in the flat, Luke?” she asked suddenly. “I want to call my father and let him know I’ve arrived.”

  “You’ll find everything in working order, including the phone. Maggie was a notorious late sleeper and needed a regular call to get her to the office each day.”

  Robin wondered briefly just how friendly he had been with his former secretary. She had skipped off with a sailor, so the story went, but that didn’t mean she and Luke hadn’t been close before the sailor appeared on the scene. Not that it mattered to Robin. She couldn’t care less how many women Luke had in his life, just as long as she wasn’t included in the list.

  She hadn’t yet found the one man with whom she wanted to share her life ... but when she did, Robin was very sure it had to be an exclusive relationship. Would Luke even consider that within his world of high-powered wheeling and dealing? And why was she even considering him as a candidate, anyway?

  Before she could stop them, the sweet images were enveloping her. Had she ever known a man like Luke before — one who could storm his way into her life and set her aflame the way he did? Did the memory of any other man’s kisses linger with erotic passion and tender warmth at the same time? Had she ever felt this disturbed by a stranger? If this was falling in love, then she didn’t want to know about it.

  “Oh, no” — the whispered words left her lips, and Luke glanced at her as he stopped the car outside an elegant house set back in tree-lined grounds, with the sweep of the Downs in front of it and a tantalising glimpse of the fairy-tale bridge to the left and in the distance. Luke’s house.

  “Did you say something, Robin?”

  Bill was already getting out of the car and opening the trunk to get his overnight bag. Robin swallowed. She was appalled by the sudden realisation that her feelings for this man weren’t quite what they had been in the beginning! She still hated what he stood for, but she was becoming irresistibly drawn to the man himself — and that was something she had no intention of admitting to anyone.

  “I expected some modern futuristic place,” she floundered inanely. Luke gave a short laugh.

  “You mean you thought I’d have no taste, right? I can see your education regarding a dreaded property developer is far from complete. It will be my pleasure to change your way of thinking, Robin.”

  He didn’t get out of the car or turn off the engine, and Bill didn’t seem to expect it. The small car in the drive was clearly his, and he called out goodbye to the two of them as he moved towards it, saying he’d see them at the office the next morning. Luke’s car moved off, to circle the verdant patch of Downs and stop outside another building almost directly opposite Luke’s house.

  “This is where you’ll live, Robin. I had the place converted into flats a few years ago and kept the one on the top floor for my secretary. It has the best view, and there’s a lift in case you can’t cope with four flights of stairs. Come on, I’ll take you inside.”

  Robin got out of the car, feeling as if none of this was really happening. She watched Luke take her luggage from the trunk and followed him up the stone steps to the big front door. There was a spacious hall inside and he went at once to the lift and loaded the suitcases inside. Like a lamb to the slaughter ... Robin couldn’t get the ridiculous phrase out of her head. Suddenly she couldn’t think of a single thing to say to him as they rode silently upwards in the closeness of the lift. Close — yet there was a sudden distance between them. She was his employee and his tenant, and the feeling of awkwardness she was experiencing annoyed her. She felt so tense, as if she would snap in two if he tried anything now.

  Luke unlocked the door of the flat and stood aside for her to go in. It was very tastefully furnished and clean and had an excellent view. She could see Luke’s house and the Clifton suspension bridge. At night it would be beautiful.

  Luke spoke abruptly. “I’ll leave you to browse around and unpack, Robin. It’s just after six now. I’ll be back at eight, and we’ll have dinner together. You won’t want to be on your own on your first evening here.”

  He handed her a key, and before she could reply he had turned on his heel and was gone. Robin looked out the window. When he was outside the building and getting back into his car, Luke looked up for a moment and raised his hand in salute. Robin waved back and watched him drive off. Su
ch a little distance to go, yet she felt idiotically as if she were being deserted.

  How stupid she was being! Angry at herself, Robin moved away from the window and looked quickly around the flat. It was very nice indeed, with one large bedroom and a smaller one; a bathroom; a tiny kitchen and a pleasant lounge. It was impersonal at the moment, needing the stamp of someone’s personality on it to bring it to life. Her brain worked quickly, not letting her uncertainty take control. Photographs and records and books — she had had the foresight to bring some with her, and once they were unpacked ...

  But first she would phone her father. Hearing his familiar voice would help to make her feel less disoriented. Robin dialled the number and relaxed a little as she told him she was fine and the flat was lovely, and that she’d call him again the following night to let him know how she’d got on at the office. And as James was going out for the evening, Robin didn’t prolong the call. The small contact was gone.

  A bath. That would be next. Unpack some of her clothes and unwind. Her thoughts seemed to jerk through her head in staccato bursts. She was more alone than she had ever really been since Elaine Fowler’s death. She was without the hectic work load that had been thrust upon her at that time, away from the cocoon of her father’s sympathy for her distress over someone he had never met. Alone.

  This was feeble, Robin told herself angrily. She pulled her toilet bag out of one suitcase, and a simple blouse and skirt and a change of underwear from the other. She couldn’t think properly, and she was disgusted with herself. It was totally unlike her.

  Ten minutes later, soaking in the soft fragrance of a soothing bath, some of the tension lifted fractionally. She told herself she was at the start of a new adventure, and Robin had never been one to balk at new experiences. She welcomed them. She was foolish to let the ghosts of the past drain all her energy. Besides, she needed all her wits about her to deal with Luke Burgess and to assure herself that he really was all he said he was.

  She even found herself humming a little tune as she dressed and applied fresh makeup. She was fond of the blouse she wore; it was a rich plum colour and went well with her beige skirt. It gave her confidence and made her feel good. She had no idea where she would be dining with Luke, and it was suitable for just about anywhere. Robin began looking round the flat with a feminine interest. There was a TV and even a record player in the lounge. On impulse Robin riffled through the collection of LPs she’d brought and put one on the turntable. The well-remembered strains of one of Elaine Fowler’s most frequently requested melodies seemed to fill the room. Robin sank down on the settee as the lovely haunting tune of Plaisir d’ Amour washed over her. She closed her eyes, seeing in her imagination the white-haired, straight-backed lady who had played the tune, her long fingers seeming to caress the keys.

  One second Robin was dreaming wistfully, caught up in the music and days that were gone; the next she was hugging a cushion to her breast in a paroxysm of weeping, crying her heart out in a way she had been unable to do until now. There seemed to be no end to her crying — it racked her whole body, blinding her to everything but the need to express her grief physically. For once, she didn’t want to be the strong one, the capable one.

  She didn’t hear the knock on the door of the flat, nor did she notice when the knocking was repeated. She wasn’t aware of a key being inserted in the lock, or of someone entering the lounge, or of troubled eyes looking down at her.

  Her heart leapt when she realised that someone was taking the cushion gently away from her. She looked up and saw the blurred shape of Luke blocking her line of vision as he had done the first time she saw him. Then she had been angry with him. Now she could only look mutely, her heart still thudding at his unexpected appearance, her cheeks flushed, her golden hair a tangle of confusion. If she had even cared to think about it, she would have thought that she looked a mess.

  But she didn’t think of it, and neither did he. With one soft, expressive oath, he pulled her gently to her feet and folded her in his arms, holding her against his chest as if to let his own strength flow into her.

  “Cry your tears for her, baby.” His voice was gentle in her ear. “You’re a crazy woman, pretending to be harder than you really are. Women aren’t meant to be tough. Your Elaine Fowler wasn’t, was she? Anyone who can play the piano with such sensitivity must have been a caring person, and she’d be glad to know that Robin Pollard is still capable of weeping, despite her sophisticated veneer. Let it happen, darling.”

  The words flowed over her like music. She wept against him, oblivious to the fact that she was spoiling the clean shirt he’d just put on. She felt safe and warm and wanted. And when the bout of crying had lessened a little, she was even able to whisper into his shoulder and attempt a thin joke.

  “I thought I was supposed to be solid rock. How do you know which is the real me, Luke?”

  He looked down into her misty eyes. She couldn’t see the expression in his since he stood against the light and the night was already turning the sky outside to a soft velvet blue.

  “I’m not sure yet. But we have plenty of time to find out, don’t we, Robin?”

  The faint touch of arrogance, of the Luke she knew was back in his voice. For a moment the old antaganism trembled between them, and then his mouth was seeking hers in a long sweet kiss and she was locked in his embrace, melting against him, the hidden fire of passion muted, yet as undeniable as the night. Robin knew that this was the only place she wanted to be at that moment. It was all she needed, to be held and comforted like that.

  The record ended, and the lilting strains of the music faded away. But the music was all in her head now ... Plaisir d’Amour, the pleasures of love ... the pleasures of love. And what she was experiencing now in Luke’s arms was surely one of them.

  Chapter Five

  Carefully, Robin extricated herself from Luke’s arms. For blissful moments it had seemed the haven of her dreams, but as reality intruded with the ending of the piano music on the record, she became acutely embarrassed by the situation. She tried so hard to appear cool and efficient — which was what she assumed Luke Burgess would need in a secretary, after all — and there she was, within such a little time, proving herself to be vulnerable. Now that she was no longer so highly emotional, the memory of the touch of arrogance in Luke’s voice superseded all other thoughts. She gave a shaky laugh and turned her face away from him to hide the heat in her cheeks.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t usually behave like that in front of a stranger.”

  “I thought we’d progressed beyond all that ‘stranger’ nonsense.” He was as forthright as ever, his previous gentleness gone. It was easier on her, she thought, with a sighing breath. She could cope with him when they struck sparks off each other. When he became protective, caring, her bones seemed to crumble, her self-sufficiency to vanish. Her short laugh was stronger this time.

  “Don’t cash in on the situation, Luke,” she made herself say lightly. “You know very well I’m still grieving for someone I loved as a friend as well as an employer, and I think you know very well why I agreed to take on this job.”

  “Can’t you forget the job for one minute?” he said angrily. “You’re not a work machine, and I wouldn’t want you to be one. Were you so coolly standoffish with Elaine Fowler, I wonder?”

  He had moved round to face her, and she couldn’t prevent the hot tears from springing to her eyes. She blinked them away angrily.

  “That’s not fair.” Her voice vibrated unsteadily.

  “No, it’s not,” he said calmly. “But you know the boring old cliché: ‘All’s fair in love and war.’ ”

  “This must be war, then. It’s certainly not love,” Robin retorted before he could make any more platitudes. She didn’t want to hear them. Her stomach was churning because of the upheaval of the last ten minutes. It had been a long day, ending with an entirely new situation, and what was more, she was suddenly very hungry. She recognised the gnawing feeling with something lik
e relief, and brought the conversation down to basics. “I thought you said something about dinner, or do you always drive your employees to the brink of starvation before you feed them?”

  Luke stared thoughtfully into her glowing eyes — which were at that moment as wild as the Cornish sea — and saw that she had had enough. He leaned forward unexpectedly and touched his lips to hers, so lightly that it was no more than a brushing of his skin against her own, an expression of tenderness without passion, but memorable for all that. Nothing he did went unregistered in her mind, Robin realised anew. It was an inescapable fact.

  “Let’s go, then.”

  “You’ll have to wait while I patch up my face. I can’t go anywhere looking like this.”

  “You only have to walk across the Downs. We’re eating at my place, and before you start going all Victorian on me, it’s perfectly respectable. My house-keeper lives in, and she’s looking forward to meeting you. Now, go and dab your face, and let’s move. Mrs. Somerton’s not the type to think the worst at our nonappearance, but it would be a shame to let her excellent cooking spoil.”

  Robin went quickly to the bathroom to sponge her face with cold water, feeling all kinds of an idiot. Luke’s words made her feel naive, and she hated him for producing the feeling in her. She had met all kinds of people while working with Elaine Fowler, and she considered herself a pretty good judge of character. Robin could immediately pick out rakes or roués, to use Mrs. Fowler’s old-fashioned terms.

  They might be old-fashioned names, but the intentions of the men who earned them hadn’t altered through the ages. Luke wasn’t one of them, but he had the ruthless male charisma of a successful man who combined wealth with good looks and sex appeal. He was one of a kind. Luke Burgess might epitomise many things that she despised and mistrusted, but he was still unique. That was what made him doubly dangerous as far as she was concerned, and she was more vulnerable than she had thought.