Wild Justice

by Joanna Mansell

  For some reason, his indifference abruptly stung. 'You are feeling better this morning, aren't you?' she snapped back at him. 'It's like talking to a blank wall!'

  He simply shrugged. 'If you don't want to carry on with this conversation right now, we can always continue it at some other time.'

  'What's the point?' she said, with more than a touch of sarcasm. 'I don't suppose your attitude will have changed one jot by then.'

  'Probably not. So, let's get back to the point in hand. How long am I going to have the pleasure of your company?'

  'I don't know,' she admitted at last, rather grudgingly. 'I—need time to think things over.'

  And that, at least, was the truth. She had absolutely no idea what she was going to do next. Coming up here had been a fairly impulsive decision, and staying had seemed inevitable once she had discovered how ill Jared was. He seemed to have made a miraculous recovery now, though. Obviously, once the fever had passed, he had only needed a couple of days of complete rest in order to get right back on his feet again. She wasn't needed any longer—so, where did she go from here?

  It was a question that she just couldn't seem to answer right now. She felt too tired, too jaded, too— What was the word Jared had used?

  Disillusioned—yes, that was it. Wanting to break free of her stifling relationship with her father was one thing. To have it severed so abruptly—and painfully—was something else. She needed time to get used to the idea, to come to terms with the fact that her father was— Was what? she wondered grimly, remembering Jared's accusations against him, and the way her father had proudly boasted of how he had taken advantage of the tragedy that had hit Jared's life. Not a man she could love—or perhaps even like.

  She looked up, and found Jared was still watching her closely. She wished he wouldn't do that! She hated being watched, and especially by him.

  Rather too quickly, she got to her feet. 'I'm going out,' she announced abruptly.

  Jared glanced out of the window, at the gathering mist. 'In this? You'll get lost.'

  'Then you won't be bothered with my company any more, will you?' she retorted. 'I dare say you'll find that a great relief.'

  'It'll certainly be a great deal more peaceful around here,' he agreed amicably. His gaze drifted over her. 'At least you're more sensibly dressed this time,' he added. 'I won't have to worry about you breaking an ankle in ridiculous stiletto heels, or catching pneumonia through wearing entirely unsuitable clothes.'

  'If I remember rightly, you're the one who's had pneumonia,' she reminded him. 'And you're the one who got the flu, and became ill. If anyone needs to look after themselves, I don't think that it's me!'

  To her surprise, he actually looked amused. 'I think you're probably right,' he agreed, almost cheerfully. 'But all the same, if you're not back in an hour, I intend to raise the alarm. The mountains and the loch might look very picturesque, but this area can also be highly dangerous if you get lost.'

  'How are you going to raise the alarm?' she demanded. 'Send for help by carrier pigeon?'

  'I thought using the phone might be more practical.'

  'But you don't have a phone.'

  Jared's mouth curved into a faint but genuine smile. It was such an unexpected reaction that Cassandra actually blinked in pure astonishment.

  'Just because you didn't find a phone when you were here on your first—visit,' he said, a second flicker of amusement showing in his eyes, 'it doesn't mean that I don't have one. I simply unplugged it, and put it somewhere you wouldn't find it.' Then his expression changed back to its familiar blandness. 'One hour,' he reminded her.

  Cassandra got to her feet and rather stiffly walked out without answering him. She pulled down her thick anorak from the coat-stand in the draughty entrance hall, wriggled into it, and then went out, slamming the front door loudly behind her. He needn't think he could dictate what she could or couldn't do, because he would soon find out she wouldn't stand for it. She would stay out for as long as she pleased—and if he alerted every rescue service in Scotland unnecessarily then he would look the fool, not her!

  The mist swirled round her damply as she tramped down the path, and a fine drizzle was beginning to fall. Everything had turned to a dismal shade of grey, which exactly matched her mood. If you needed cheering up, this was definitely not the place to come to, she decided with a dark grimace.

  Since the grass was wet and slippery, she decided to stick to the road. There was no point in risking a twisted ankle. She certainly didn't want to be immobile—that would give Jared Sinclair too many advantages, and she had the feeling that he had more than enough of those already.

  She went the way she had gone before, on the day she had tried to escape from Glenveil. Since she was wearing flat-soled shoes, she could walk much more quickly and easily this time, and it wasn't long before the derelict cottage came into view. She gave a wry sigh as she remembered how pleased she had been to see it that first time; and how bitterly disappointed when she had found it was uninhabited.

  After a couple of minutes, she turned back. Her gaze drifted towards the road, and it was a few moments before she realised she was half expecting to see Jared's old car there again, with his shadowy figure inside, waiting to take her back to Glenveil.

  'Idiot!' she muttered under her breath, annoyed with herself for being so stupid.

  A glance at her watch told her she had been out for a little over half an hour. If she started back for Glenveil now, she would just make it before the hour was up.

  You don't have to go, she told herself firmly. He doesn't have any right to tell you what you can do, or how long you can stay out, as if you were a rather tiresome child he has to keep an eye on.

  But, somehow, her feet had already started walking back in that direction. And she had to admit it was cold, and unpleasantly damp. There wasn't any point in staying out just to spite him.

  By the time she reached the house, she was so chilled that Glenveil looked almost inviting. She opened the front door, kicked off her wet shoes and hauled off her anorak, and then turned round to find Jared standing in the doorway.

  'Perfect timing,' he complimented her. 'You made it with two minutes to spare.'

  Cassandra shot him a black look. 'I think I liked you better when you were in bed, semi-conscious!'

  'Why?' he probed. 'Because you find me hard to take? Or because it gave you a perfect excuse to stay? And you do want to stay, don't you, Cassandra?' he finished softly. 'I think you knew that even before you went out. You didn't need a long walk to help you make up your mind.'

  'If it isn't inconvenient, I'd like to remain here for just a few more days,' she agreed, in a rather stiff voice. 'I can pay you rent, of course, if you want to make the whole thing formal. I don't know what the going rate is for a freezing cold barn of a place in the middle of nowhere, but I'll pay you whatever you think is fair.'

  'Anything I ask?' he drawled.

  But she was getting to know him better by now, and she refused to rise to the bait.

  'Any reasonable sum of money,' she replied coolly.

  'Sometimes you can be very disappointing, Miss Cassandra Gregory,' he murmured. 'Did you know that?' Then he levered himself away from the doorway, and she realised he had been leaning against it because he was suddenly almost too tired to stand up unaided. 'We'll discuss this at some other time,' he said, stifling a huge yawn. 'I think I need to be clear-headed when we settle the precise terms.' His eyes briefly gleamed. 'But we will discuss them,' he promised. And, before she had time to get alarmed, he turned and walked away.

  Cassandra didn't see him again that day. She didn't know if he spent it sleeping, or just resting in his room. Nor did she particularly care. It was just a relief to be free of his company for a while. Sometimes, she felt confident that she could cope with him. Other times, she was much less sure. And today, for some reason, she knew that she couldn't cope at all.

  Next morning, Jared was not only up and around, but he also had enough ene
rgy to get the generator working again, so that they once more had electricity. And when Cassandra turned on the tap, hot water came gushing out. The boiler had been lit! She was so delighted that she had a sudden impulse to throw her arms around Jared, and give him a hug of appreciation. Better not, she warned herself wryly. He might take it entirely the wrong way. Instead, she went upstairs and indulged in the luxury of a long, hot bath.

  The weekend passed with surprisingly few problems. The weather improved slightly, and that in turn seemed to affect her own mood, which brightened considerably. She didn't see a great deal of Jared—he spent quite a lot of time stretched out in a comfortable chair in the library, either reading or sleeping—and that suited her down to the ground. Just by being in the same room with her, he could make her feel uneasy. She didn't know why, but she was certain she wasn't imagining her reaction.

  On Sunday evening, she sat in the drawing-room for a couple of hours, enjoying the warmth from the fire as she listened to a play on the radio. When the play finally finished, she got up, yawned, and decided to amble upstairs.

  She put a guard around the fire, then left the drawing-room. As she closed the door behind her, though, she heard another door opening and closing a little further along the hallway. She turned her head, and her muscles instinctively tensed as she saw Jared walking towards her.

  'Going up to bed?' he asked.

  His tone was very casual, and she told herself there was absolutely no need to get alarmed.

  'Yes,' she said, rather guardedly.

  He didn't say anything else, but simply fell into step beside her as she went up the stairs.

  When they reached the first floor landing, she paused for a moment.

  'Er—goodnight,' she said, wishing she felt—and sounded!—less awkward.

  Jared didn't move, though. Instead, he looked at her speculatively.

  'You seem a little edgy,' he remarked at last. 'It makes me wonder—'

  'Wonder what?' she asked uneasily. Then, almost immediately, she wished she hadn't asked that question.

  'Just what it is you want from me,' Jared replied, his silver gaze still resting on her with cool thoughtfulness.

  'Nothing!' she shot back at once.

  'Then why don't you want to leave Glenveil?'

  It seemed a perfectly reasonable question, so she couldn't figure out why she couldn't think of an equally reasonable answer.

  'What on earth would I want from you?' she demanded.

  'I don't know. But I wondered if perhaps it was this—'

  He didn't give the impression that he had moved very fast, and yet she didn't seem to have any chance to back away before his lips closed over hers. The kiss that followed was very similar to the one he had given her once before—very expert, frighteningly enjoyable, and yet curiously unemotional. She was quite certain that, although he was enjoying the pleasant physical sensations it was arousing, it went no further than that.

  She just wished that she could say the same thing. She definitely wasn't reacting coolly. Her heart was thumping wildly, her legs were shaking gently, and her skin was beginning to feel distinctly flushed.

  'I thought you weren't interested—' she somehow managed to get out, as the pressure of his lips eased off a fraction.

  'Did I say that?' he murmured. 'Yes, I believe I did. And I probably meant it, at the time.'

  Cassandra's alarm deepened. They were alone in this house—and he was a strong man. 'But you've changed your mind?' she whispered shakily.

  Jared's mouth curved into a half-smile. 'There's no need to look so frightened. I'm not about to force you into anything. I'm simply saying that, although I might be fairly indifferent to most things, I'm still capable of enjoying sex for its own sake.' His hand slid down almost casually over the curve of her breast. The sensation caused a deep fluttering that seemed to spread right down to the very pit of Cassandra's stomach, and she only just managed to bite back a small gasp. 'If you feel the same way, we could probably spend a very enjoyable few hours together.'

  She meant to say that she certainly did not feel like that; although she knew it was pretty old-fashioned, she had never been able to take a casual attitude to sex. The words stuck in her throat, though, as Jared's hand moved again, sliding easily under her jumper and then rubbing lightly and persuasively against her suddenly hardening nipple.

  'Or perhaps it's a little more complicated than that,' he went on, in the same conversational tone. 'You seem to have a fairly hostile attitude towards your father at the moment, and this would be the ultimate way of getting back at him, wouldn't it? Sleeping with me? Is that why you wanted to stay?' he asked, apparently not in the least disturbed by the idea. 'To get a rather twisted sort of revenge—your own brand of wild justice?'

  Those last couple of remarks finally jerked her out of her lethargy.

  'That is a disgusting thing to say! Do you think I'd go to bed with you just to—to—'

  'To deliberately hurt your father?' Jared finished for her, still in an unperturbed voice. 'You might. I don't know you well enough to know for certain either way. I do know that you like it when I kiss you, though,' he went on, and suddenly his voice was a fraction less cool than it had been a moment ago. 'And I found it surprisingly enjoyable, as well.'

  'You did?' she retorted. 'Then all I can say is that you've got a funny way of showing it!'

  'What did you expect?' he asked, with one of those rare flashes of amusement that always caught her by surprise. 'A lot of heavy breathing and unrestrained passion? I don't seem able to manage that any more. Taking it more slowly and coolly doesn't make it any less pleasant, though,' he went on almost lazily. His hand was back at her breast again now, moving almost teasingly, but still startling her into another quick flare of response. 'Interested in finding out just how good it can be?' he invited.

  'No!' This time, she did actually manage to get the word out. Nor did she have to say it twice. Jared let go of her at once, and then smoothly moved away from her.

  'Then we'll each keep our secrets for a while longer,' he said easily. 'Goodnight, Cassandra.'

  He turned and walked into his own room. It wasn't until the door had actually closed behind him, though, that Cassandra found herself capable of moving again. And even then, her legs felt horribly shaky as she headed towards her own bedroom.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Cassandra spent yet another restless night. Annoyed at not being able to sleep, she tossed around in the four-poster bed and told herself that it was the cold that was keeping her awake. The room felt like an ice-box, and she was sure the temperature outside had to be close to freezing. Much more of this, and she would have ice-cubes clinking around in her veins!

  She got up as soon as it began to get light. After pulling on a thick cardigan, she padded over to the window and found that a light patterning of frost covered the corners of the glass.

  'I knew it was freezing,' she muttered under her breath.

  She had to admit that it looked pretty spectacular outside, though. Everything glittered beneath its thin coating of frost, and the air was very still and clear.

  Deciding that she would appreciate it even more if she felt warm, she shoved her feet into a pair of slippers and headed downstairs, towards the kitchen. What she needed right now was a piping hot drink.

  She pushed open the kitchen door, and then caught her breath in surprise. Jared had got there before her. He was sitting at the table, fully dressed and looking alarmingly alert. Cassandra gave a silent groan. Last night was still uncomfortably fresh and vivid in her memory. She had been hoping for some time to herself, so she could think it over, try and work out exactly what it had meant, before having to face Jared again.

  'Want some coffee?' he offered, as she hovered uncertainly in the doorway.

  'Er—yes,' she said a little warily.

  She slid into the seat opposite him, somehow managing to avoid any direct eye contact.

  He placed a mug of hot coffee in front of her, fi
nished his own drink, and then sat back comfortably.

  'You're going to have to look at me some time,' he remarked at last.

  'I'm not scared of you,' she flashed back instantly, annoyed that he so often seemed to know what was going on inside her head.

  'No, not scared,' he agreed easily. 'But you're not sure how to cope with the situation. And you're a little worried about what's going to happen next.' His mouth curved into an unexpected smile. 'You're perfectly safe, you know. I never jump on anyone before breakfast.'

  'And what about after breakfast?'

  'Only by invitation.'

  Cassandra lifted her head indignantly. 'But last night, I didn't—'

  'Didn't invite me to kiss you?' Jared finished for her, as her voice trailed away to a small splutter. 'Wrong, Cassandra. You didn't actually put it into words, but the invitation was still there.'

  'How can you say that?' she said hotly. 'Nothing I said or did gave the slightest impression that that was what I—I wanted.'

  'Maybe you didn't do it intentionally,' Jared agreed calmly. 'But I was still getting clear signals.'

  'Whatever you thought you were getting, you were definitely mistaken!' she insisted vehemently. 'I should know what I did or didn't want.'

  His silver gaze regarded her steadily. 'Right now, I think you're so confused that you don't have the slightest idea what you want,' he told her. 'That's why you're still here—you can't even make up your mind whether to leave or not. Or where you should go.'

  'All of a sudden, you seem to know a lot about me,' she said furiously.

  'And you don't like that?'

  'No, I don't!'

  'Why not?'

  'Because—' Cassandra hesitated. She didn't know why not. She just had the feeling that it definitely wouldn't be a good idea to let this man rummage around in her most private thoughts and feelings. 'I don't like it when people start interfering in my life,' she muttered at last.

  Jared shook his head, and a faint smile touched the corners of his mouth. 'Cassandra, it might be worth keeping you around for your entertainment value! You came back here uninvited, had a thoroughly good time ordering me around when I was ill, and now you seem to be considering staying on here indefinitely, even though I haven't actually asked you to stay. Yet you're accusing me of interfering in your life.'