Wild Justice

by Joanna Mansell

  She hadn't looked at it from that point of view before.

  'You mean, you want me to go?' she mumbled.

  'I've already told you that you can do exactly as you please. It makes no difference at all to me.'

  For a split second, she found herself wishing that it did make a difference. Then she hurriedly pushed that thought away again. She could do without that sort of complication!

  But that still left the main question unanswered. Did she want to pack her things and clear out, or take a chance and stay on for a few more days, despite what had happened last night? It would be crazy to stay, she reminded herself. After all, what did she really know about Jared Sinclair? No one in their right mind would choose to move in with a virtual stranger.

  Yet, just now and then, she got the feeling that she was getting to know him extraordinarily well. At least, as well as anyone would ever get to know this extremely self-contained and private man.

  Cassandra sighed. She wished she could think straight. At any other time, she was sure she would have been able to reach a sensible and logical decision. She had a cool head and a good brain—so why couldn't she seem to use them?

  Because of this man sitting opposite you, whispered a small voice inside her head. One look from him, and you suddenly get totally confused. One touch, and the world seems to turn topsy-turvy.

  Which was all the more reason to leave. So, why couldn't she reach that simple decision?

  'I suppose the trouble is, I don't really have anywhere else to go at the moment,' she said at last, very reluctantly.

  'You don't want to go back to your flat in London?'

  'No.' Her answer was immediate. She didn't even have to think about it.

  'Why not?'

  'Because I don't want to see my father again. Not for a while.' She hated to put it into actual words, but she had the feeling that Jared wouldn't settle for anything less than the truth.

  'So you intend to hide away up here?'

  'Not hide,' she said, a little annoyed at his faintly taunting tone. 'I'm not a coward! I just need—well, time to think things over.'

  His features had taken on that unreadable expression again now. 'To decide if your father's a saint or a villain?'

  'I don't suppose he's either of those things,' she muttered. 'Just someone who's made some perfectly human and understandable mistakes.'

  Yet even she could hear that her voice was completely lacking in conviction. She knew why, as well. She could still see her father's face as he had openly gloated at his victory over Jared Sinclair. Now that she had seen that unpleasantly ruthless side of him, she doubted she would ever be able to forget it was there. Nor did she think her feelings for him were ever going to be the same again.

  'Do you know what I think?' said Jared softly. 'I think that you've got two reasons for wanting to stay here. Firstly, as you said, you don't have anywhere else to go right now. You've run away from your old life, but this is the only place you've got to go at the moment. And secondly, you want to be here. It's like a double punishment for your father. You've not only run away from him—you've moved in with a man he despises.'

  'He doesn't despise you,' she said in a low voice.

  'Oh, yes, he does,' Jared replied with absolute certainty. 'In his eyes, I'm a loser. And your father only has any regard for the winners of this world.'

  'You're not a loser!' As soon as she had said it, she was astounded. What on earth had made her blurt that out? Jared didn't need anyone to jump to his defence; he was more than capable of looking out for himself.

  'You think not?' His eyes were very clear now, but still quite untroubled, as if the prospect of being branded a failure didn't bother him in the least. Then why am I hiding away up here, in the middle of nowhere? Why haven't I made the slightest effort to try and rebuild my life?'

  'Because you need time,' Cassandra said with some certainty. When life knocks you completely flat, you can't just get up straight away and start over again. It's like being seriously ill—you have to have a convalescent period before you can get back on your feet.'

  'What a very apt simile,' he mocked her gently. Yet there wasn't any underlying sarcasm in his tone. 'And what role do you intend to play? My nurse?'

  She flushed. 'You don't need me to prop you up. In fact, I can see now that you don't really want me around at all. You're right, I shouldn't have just dumped myself on you. I'll pack my things together later, and go.'

  'There's no need for that. I dare say I could get used to having you around.'

  His reply astonished her. 'But—you don't actually want me here, do you?'

  Jared gave a brief shrug. 'You need somewhere to stay at the moment. It might as well be here.'

  She suddenly stared at him suspiciously. 'Why are you being so nice to me all of a sudden?'

  'Perhaps I feel that I owe you.'

  'For what?'

  'I did virtually kidnap you,' he reminded her.

  'Yes, you did,' she said with some acerbity. Then she added, a shade reluctantly, 'But you did have a good reason for behaving the way you did.'

  'A court of law probably wouldn't look at it that way. And looking back, I'm willing to concede that I didn't behave altogether rationally.'

  Cassandra's gaze rested on him curiously. 'You mean that you wouldn't do the same thing all over again, if you had the chance?'

  'That's exactly what I mean. I seem to be looking at things a lot clearer since I've been ill. The way I behaved before—' Jared gave a wry grimace. 'It was the first time in my life I've ever done anything quite that crazy.'

  'And to make up for it, you're willing to let me stay here for a while?'

  'Something like that.' His silver gaze rested on her levelly. 'Are you going to take up my offer?'

  As always, she meant to say no. And, as had happened before, the word just didn't come out. Instead, she somehow found herself nodding. 'I suppose so.'

  'That's settled, then.' He didn't look either pleased or displeased. Cassandra felt another wave of irritation at his utter indifference. Then she reminded herself that she ought to be grateful for it. While he felt that way about her, she had absolutely nothing to worry about. They could live like brother and sister, with absolutely no problems.

  And what if he decides to kiss you again, like last night? asked a small voice inside her head.

  He won't, she told herself firmly. That had been a one-off; a misunderstanding between them that definitely wouldn't happen again. For the next few days, she could concentrate solely on trying to sort out her own life. And Glenveil, in its solitary splendour, was the perfect place to do it. It was the refuge that she needed right now.

  Rather to her surprise, things went as smoothly as she had hoped. In fact, her only real problem was boredom. She was used to working hard, and having virtually every hour of the day filled with problems that had to be solved, or new ideas that needed developing. She couldn't seem to adjust to all this sudden leisure.

  She had no idea how Jared spent his time. He frequently disappeared for long stretches, and although she supposed he was in some other part of the house she never tried to follow him or asked him what he was doing. He had already made it perfectly clear that he didn't appreciate any probing into his private life, and she didn't want to do anything to antagonise him. If she did that, he might change his mind about letting her stay here, and chuck her out instead.

  One day, though, it finally got too much for her. When Jared made one of his rare appearances at lunch, she flung herself down in the seat opposite him and looked straight at him.

  'I'm bored,' she announced.

  One of his eyebrows lifted gently. 'And what am I supposed to do about that?'

  'I don't know,' she admitted, rather disconsolately.

  'Then why bother me with your problems?'

  His cool question instantly riled her. 'You're definitely not the sympathetic type, are you?'

  'If you want sympathy, you'd better go somewhere else,' came h
is unruffled reply. 'All I ever offered you was a roof over your head. I didn't offer to provide entertainment as well.'

  Cassandra glared at him. 'No, you didn't, and you're certainly living up to your side of the bargain! Anyway, what do you do all day?'

  'I don't see that's any of your business.'

  Since he had a point there, she bit back a scathing retort. Instead, she tapped her fingers rather impatiently on the table.

  'No one's forcing you to stay here,' he reminded her. 'If you're that bored, why not go back to London? Or take yourself off on a holiday somewhere?'

  But, for some reason, those alternatives just didn't appeal to her.

  A couple of minutes later, she raised her head and looked at him with new thoughtfulness. 'Are you planning on staying here all winter?' she asked.

  'I've no idea,' replied Jared. 'I don't plan ahead. I just take each day as it comes.'

  'But there's a good chance you'll stay here right through to the spring?' she persisted.

  'It's a possibility,' he agreed.

  'Then how about letting me make this place more comfortable for you? It's my job, it's what I'm good at,' she said, her voice gaining enthusiasm all the time. 'I could turn Glenveil into a real home, and it wouldn't cost you too much. Unless you decided to go all the way, and have central heating installed,' she added, thinking fast now. 'It would be expensive, but it would be worth it. Just think of it—warmth right through the house! No more woolly jumpers and thick socks, and freezing to death every night because the temperature in those bedrooms plummets practically to zero.'

  'No,' said Jared, calmly but very firmly.

  Cassandra wrinkled her nose in disappointment. 'You mean you can't afford it?'

  'I can afford practically anything I want.' As she shot a look of surprise at him, he went on, 'Along with this house, my uncle left me a small fortune. Unfortunately, it came too late to save Glenveil Toys. I'd already lost my company by then. Or rather, your father had cheated me out of it,' he corrected himself, with a sudden dark frown. 'Now that I don't need it, I've got more money than I know what to do with. There's a certain irony in that, don't you think?'

  'You really want to know what I think?' she retorted. 'I think that, since your uncle was so rich, it was a pity he didn't buy himself a more comfortable house!'

  'Uncle Angus was always of the opinion that a little physical hardship was good for the soul.'

  'Well, it doesn't seem to have done much for yours,' Cassandra muttered. 'In fact, I'm not even sure you've got one.'

  'A soul?' Jared echoed, with a ghost of a smile. 'No, probably not.'

  'So, what are you going to do with all this money?'

  'Perhaps I'll just live in idleness for the rest of my days,' he suggested. 'I could well afford to do that.'

  'You might be able to afford it, but I don't think you'll do it,' Cassandra replied at once. 'You're not the type.'

  Jared looked at her quizzically. 'You think you know me well enough to know what type I am?'

  To her annoyance, she flushed. 'Not really,' she mumbled. Then, to cover her sudden confusion, she looked at him with new belligerence. 'If you're rolling in money, why won't you use some of it to make this place more comfortable?'

  'Because I happen to like it exactly the way it is,' he said calmly.

  'I suppose you think it's very romantic,' she grumbled. 'Log fires, shadowy corners everywhere, rattling windows and ice-cold draughts. Not to mention the tin bath and candles when the boiler goes out and the generator isn't working! Well, I'm afraid I'm a modern girl. I like double glazing and central heating. Not to mention carpets, instead of freezing stone floors.'

  'Which just goes to prove how very incompatible we are,' replied Jared, in the same unperturbed tone.

  'Oh, you're impossible!' she snapped in annoyance, getting to her feet and stalking over to the door. 'Or perhaps you just enjoy being contrary. Either way, there are days when you really get on my nerves!'

  'No one's forcing you to stick around. You're free to walk out whenever you want.'

  Cassandra didn't bother to reply, but simply flounced out of the kitchen. She was afraid that if she stayed there much longer she might give in to the temptation to chuck a plate at him!

  She remained in a bad temper for the rest of the day, although she wasn't really sure why. Everything just seemed to be irritating the hell out of her for some reason. Perhaps it was because she didn't have anyone to talk to, she told herself. Jared didn't really count. Apart from the fact that he wasn't around much, he wasn't the world's greatest conversationalist even when he was there. And he was so unreasonable about so many things. He just didn't seem interested in looking at anything from her point of view.

  By late evening, though, she had calmed down a little and felt in a better frame of mind. By then, she was also a trifle worried. Rather belatedly, it occurred to her that perhaps it wasn't a very good idea to antagonise Jared. She was only here on sufferance. Any time he liked, he could throw her out.

  Although it was the last thing on earth she really wanted to do, she decided that perhaps she had better apologise to him. She hadn't been exactly polite to him at lunch time, and she didn't want things to go too badly wrong between them.

  From past experience, she knew that she wasn't much good at apologies. That was why it would be better to get it over and done with tonight. By morning, it might just stick in her throat so much that she wouldn't be able to get it out!

  The only problem was, she didn't have the slightest idea where Jared had got to. She hadn't seen him since lunch time. A quick check through the rooms on the ground floor revealed no sign of him, and reluctantly she went up and tapped on his bedroom door. Perhaps he had decided to have an early night.

  There was no response to her knock, and when she gingerly eased the door open, she found only an empty room. Frowning now, she made her way back downstairs. He wouldn't have gone out, not this late at night. Anyway, there was nowhere to go. This area was definitely short on entertainment facilities. There wasn't even a pub within walking distance.

  That meant he had to be in the house somewhere. There were plenty of rooms where he could hide himself away. If she really wanted to see Jared tonight, then she would just have to check through every one of them until she found him.

  It was a rather eerie experience, making her way through the silent corridors of Glenveil, and opening doors which led to rooms which had obviously been unoccupied for years. In the end, even her own shadow was making her jump nervously.

  'Get a grip on yourself,' she murmured shakily under her breath. 'What do you think's going to happen? A ghoulie or ghostie jumping out and grabbing you?'

  She was at the far end of the house now, in a large turret which had been tacked on at some time in Glenveil's chequered history. A winding stone staircase led up to the room on the upper floor, and it was so dimly lit that she felt a definite reluctance to tackle it.

  'Come on, don't be such a coward,' she lectured herself a little impatiently. 'You're not scared of the dark, are you?'

  The answer to that was probably yes, she realised with a grimace. All the same, she started up the stairs and hoped she wouldn't bump into Uncle Angus's ghost on its way down!

  There was a door at the top, and she stopped outside it, slightly out of breath after the steep climb. This was it, she vowed. If Jared wasn't here, then she would give up looking for him tonight, and head straight back to bed. The apology she intended to offer him would just have to wait until the morning.

  She pushed open the door, and then stood there in amazement. The room inside was large and brightly lit, and seemed to have been fixed up as some sort of workshop. There were all sorts of machines dotted around, although she didn't recognise any of them, or have the faintest idea what they did. And at the far end of the room was a workbench, which looked as if it was well used. Cassandra blinked. What was this place?

  'Well, well,' drawled Jared, 'you're not just a nuisance, you're a
lso a nosy little bitch.'

  The sound of his voice made her jump. She hadn't known he was there. In fact, she couldn't see him even now. Then there was a stir of movement from the large armchair on the far side of the room as Jared levered himself out of its depths, and slowly sauntered over to her.

  In the past, she had often been annoyed because his eyes were so bland, revealing almost nothing. Tonight, though, they were almost too brilliant. Cassandra found herself wishing they would go back to their more familiar cool remoteness.

  He stopped just a couple of feet in front of her. 'I see I'm to be allowed no privacy, not even in my own house.'

  She stared back at him a little defiantly. 'You didn't tell me that any part of Glenveil was off bounds.' Then she looked around curiously. 'Is this where you spend most of your time? What do you do here?'

  'At the moment, I'm drinking myself into a few hours of oblivion,' he said, not very pleasantly. And I'd prefer to do it without any interfering female hanging around.'

  Her gaze slid past him and fixed instead on the near-empty bottle of spirits standing on the table near his chair.

  'You're going to have a hell of a hangover in the morning,' she said bluntly.

  'It'll be worth it to get a few hours of sleep without nightmares. Now, are you going to get out of here and let me get on with my drinking session in peace?'

  'If that's what you want. But it isn't the answer, you know.'

  'I do know that,' Jared replied caustically. 'I'm not completely unintelligent.'

  'Then why behave like this? Whatever problems you've got, they'll still be there in the morning. Along with a splitting headache,' she warned.

  He took another step forward. 'I don't need any lectures on the subject. And I don't want you hanging around here. Get off to bed—you're boring me.'

  But Cassandra wasn't so easily browbeaten. 'So you can finish off the bottle?' she challenged.