Wild Justice

by Joanna Mansell

  'If that's what I want.' His eyes blazed back at her. 'Get out of here, little girl. Or you'll end up out of your depth.'

  She sturdily stood her ground. 'I'm not a child. I know what I'm doing.'

  Jared's mouth curled into a strange smile. 'But I'm not so sure that I do—which could make it dangerous to stick around.'

  She shook her head. 'You don't get rid of me that easily.'

  'I'm beginning to think that I'm never going to get rid of you at all. That you're going to be hanging around my bloody neck for the rest of my life!'

  'You're the one who got me involved in the first place,' she pointed out. 'If you hadn't come barging into my office that day, lured me up here and then tried to keep me a prisoner, we'd never even have met.'

  'If I'd known how it was going to turn out, I'd probably never have come within a hundred miles of you,' Jared growled.

  'Do you really mean that?' Her voice came out a bit funny, but to her relief, Jared didn't seem to notice.

  'Yes. No. Oh, hell, I'm too drunk to know what I mean,' he muttered.

  She looked at him consideringly. 'I've seen people who were falling-down drunk, and they didn't look like you.'

  'That's because you've interrupted me before I've had the chance to finish the bottle.'

  'It's as well that I did,' she said briskly. 'This would be a very good time to stop, don't you think?'

  'No, I do not think. Stop interfering, Cassandra. I don't need some damn nursemaid telling me what I can or can't do.'

  'Perhaps that's just what you do need,' she insisted. Jared, think what you're doing. You're drinking! How on earth can you bear even to touch the stuff after—?'

  Her voice abruptly trailed away as she saw the dangerous flicker in his eyes.

  'After what?' he prompted, in a voice that was suddenly soft and yet horribly menacing.

  She took a very deep breath. 'I know about the accident,' she blurted out, saying it very quickly before her nerve failed her completely. 'I know that it was a drunken driver who caused the—the deaths of your wife and child. If it were me, I couldn't bear to touch alcohol again. I wouldn't even want to look at it. That's why I don't understand—'

  'Why I'm getting as drunk as the bastard who killed them?' he finished for her harshly. 'No, I don't suppose you do.' His gaze was still fixed on her with killing intensity. 'Shall I tell you something?' he went on more quietly. 'This is the first time I've touched alcohol since it happened.'

  'Then—why tonight?'

  'Because sometimes I still find it damn near impossible to live with what happened. Most of the time, I can accept it. I've learnt that you either do that, or you end up totally crazy. But now and then, it just gets too much. And when that happens, I'll try anything to blot it out for a few hours, to get all the nightmarish memories back to an acceptable level. Do you know the best remedy?' He gave a rather twisted smile. 'Sex. Odd, isn't it, that it takes the act of life to blot out the memory of death? Or perhaps it's not very strange at all. Perhaps it's perfectly logical, when you think about it. But since sex isn't available tonight, I thought I'd try alcohol instead.'

  Cassandra had never heard him talk like this before. She supposed it was because he wasn't entirely sober. On the other hand, she was sure he was a very long way from being completely drunk. She had the impression that he was a man who could drink a great deal without it having very much effect on him.

  Yet there was no denying the raw pain in his voice. Drunk or sober, he was going through some kind of private hell tonight, knocked flat by a whole torrent of haunting memories that were rampaging through his mind, out of control. She felt a desperate sympathy for him, but didn't know what she could do to help.

  She came a little further into the room, and then stood there rather helplessly.

  'Instead of sex and alcohol, you could always try work,' she said at last, in a low voice. 'My father—he's made a mess of running your company. The new lines aren't selling well, and profits are dropping. There's every chance he could be trying to sell it fairly soon. You could buy it back, start over again—'

  'No,' said Jared, with utter finality. 'One thing I've learnt over the last few months—you can't ever go back. You just have to try and carry on from where you are, right here and now.' A cold smile touched his mouth. 'That doesn't mean I couldn't start a brand new company, of course. Do you think that's a good idea?' Before she had a chance to answer, he went on mockingly, 'Perhaps I could call it Cassandra Toys. That's got a rather nice ring to it, don't you think?'

  She ignored his taunting tone. 'That sounds fine to me. Would you have anything to sell?'

  He gestured expansively towards the workbench. 'What do you think I do up here all day? Sit and gaze at the ceiling?'

  'You've been working on a new range of toys?' Her voice was fully alert now. She stared at the workbench, but couldn't make sense of the odd shapes scattered all over it. They certainly didn't look like anything recognisable to her.

  Jared saw her puzzled look. 'Watch,' he said briefly. His fingers deftly gathered up the pieces, and in just seconds he had fitted them together. Cassandra gave a small gasp of surprise and delight. Jared was now holding a beautifully detailed model of a spaceship.

  'That's fantastic! Have you got any more?'

  'About half a dozen, so far. And I'm working on a larger model of a space station—' He rather abruptly broke off at that point, as if he had never meant to say so much.

  'If you aren't interested in starting up another company, why have you been working on these?' Cassandra asked him forthrightly.

  'They're not intended for commercial production. They were just a way of passing the time.'

  She took the small model of the spaceship from him, and looked at it more closely, fascinated by the perfection of design and detail.

  'Why toys?' she asked at last.

  'What do you mean?'

  'Well—why not computers, electronic gadgets, something more—'

  'Adult?' he finished for her.

  She gave a very definite shake of her head. 'No, that wasn't what I meant. I don't think anyone could ever accuse you of being immature. I just wondered why you decided to go for toys, instead of any of the other alternatives.'

  'I've always enjoyed working on a small scale,' Jared answered after a long pause. 'And there's a great challenge in producing something for young and developing minds. You have to come up with something that stimulates and teaches, and yet is still entertaining. With models like these, that have to be assembled, they have to be hard enough to provide a challenge, and yet not so difficult that the child can't cope with putting it together.'

  Cassandra was fascinated. She had never heard him talk like this before.

  'You could start over again,' she said with certainty. 'Jared, you've got it all going for you. You've got the experience, you know the markets, and you've definitely got the talent.'

  'All I lack is the actual incentive.'

  She wasn't put off by his negative attitude. 'Perhaps all you need is someone to give you a hefty push.'

  'Are you volunteering for that task?'

  For the first time, she hesitated. 'No, I suppose not,' she said finally. 'I'm not the right person, am I? I'm a Gregory,' she reminded him. 'I'm the last person you'd want to get involved with, business-wise or—or in any other way,' she finished, a slight flush showing on her face for the first time.

  'It's never stopped you interfering before,' Jared commented, a rather caustic note returning to his voice again.

  'No, but this is—well, different.' She was almost mumbling now, although she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was because of the gleam that had suddenly returned to Jared's eyes. She remembered what he had told her about these fits of depression that hit him. His usual cure was sex—and right now, she was the only female around.

  'I think I'd better be going,' she went on rather hurriedly. 'It's getting late—'

  Jared casually walked towards her. 'I'll come with you.'<
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  'Don't you want to—' Her voice suddenly went squeaky. She cleared her throat, and tried again. 'Don't you want to stay here and finish your drink?'

  'There's no point,' he said briefly. 'I could get through a couple of bottles of that stuff, and it still wouldn't make any difference.'

  He clicked out the light, and then easily kept up with her as she scuttled rather hastily down the stairs. On her way here, it had been the dark shadows and the silence that she had found rather unnerving. Now she was edgy for an entirely different reason.

  All too soon, they were back in the main part of the house. They went up to the first floor together, and when they reached the door to her bedroom, she gripped the handle with a slightly sweaty hand.

  'Goodnight,' she said, rather too quickly.

  Tired amusement showed on Jared's face, as if he knew exactly what was making her so nervous.

  'Goodnight,' he said. Then he began to walk away even before she had started to open her door.

  Once she was inside her bedroom, she felt safe—and rather ashamed. All she had been thinking about was herself. As well as that, though, she was surprised to find she felt oddly restless. Almost as if—well, as if she were disappointed that Jared hadn't tried to touch her.

  A little stunned by that particular thought, she stood very still in the middle of the room. Don't be crazy, Cassandra, she told herself shakily. He makes you nervous, he rubs you up the wrong way, he—

  He fascinated her. Unwillingly, she admitted what she had known for some time. Her reasons for coming back here, and then staying on, were a lot more complicated than she would have liked. She could have gone at any time—she had had a dozen good reasons for going—and yet she was still here.

  All the same, Jared Sinclair—Jared Sinclair—

  Very slowly, she got undressed. She didn't get into bed, though. Instead, she kept thinking about a man who was facing a long and empty night. A man who didn't have anyone to help him get through it.

  She stood there for so long that she grew cold, but she didn't even notice the goose-pimples that had begun to creep over her skin. Something inside her seemed to be slowly changing, to be looking at things in an entirely new way. And she couldn't quite get used to it.

  In the end, she didn't really come to any conscious decision, and yet she found herself moving. And it wasn't towards her own bed. Instead, her feet carried her out of the room and across the landing. Blinking in surprise, she found herself standing outside Jared's door. She started to turn away, but then seemed to get stuck. There wasn't any way she could go but forward.

  She still didn't have the slightest idea what she was doing here. All she was sure of was that this was the right thing to do.

  She knocked lightly on his door. Then, without waiting for him to reply, she opened it and steadily walked in.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Jared was still fully dressed, and standing by the window. As she stood just inside the doorway, his silver gaze rested on her with cold understanding.

  'The sacrificial lamb,' he remarked unpleasantly. Very noble of you, Cassandra, but I think I can make it through the night without you.'

  Cassandra took absolutely no notice. She was beginning to learn to pay little attention to Jared's more cutting comments. Instead, she listened to his tone of voice—and she could clearly hear the bleakness there.

  She moved further into the room, which looked unexpectedly cosy. The fire was burning brightly, and a couple of lamps gave off a soft, warm glow.

  'If you don't want to take me to bed, that's fine by me,' she said in a calm voice. 'But I still think you need company, so why not let me stay for a while?'

  'Because I don't need you here.'

  'I think that you do.' Her gaze remained very steady. 'Either way, you're going to find it pretty hard to get rid of me.'

  'So, what else is new?' Jared shot back in exasperation. 'My God, I certainly didn't know what I was taking on when I first got involved with you!'

  'Things never turn out the way you expect them to, do they?' she agreed cheerfully. 'By the way, why don't you come and sit by the fire? It must be cold in that half of the room.'

  She thought he would probably stay where he was, just to be contrary. After a small snort of impatience, though, he moved away from the window and settled himself in one of the armchairs by the fire. Cassandra hesitated for a few moments. Then she went over and sat on the thick rug, at his feet.

  She stared into the flames for a few minutes. Then she said in a quiet voice, 'What was your wife like?'

  She couldn't see Jared's face, not without turning her head. And she didn't do that. Instead, she kept staring steadfastly into the dancing flames.

  'Not anything like you,' Jared said a little roughly, at last.

  'You mean, to look at?'

  'Not in any way at all.' He was silent for such a long time that she thought he wasn't going to say anything more. Just when she was wishing that she hadn't given in to the sudden urge to ask that question, though, he began speaking again.

  'She was gorgeous—but quite a bitch.' Before Cassandra had time to get over the jolt of shock at his blunt words, he went on harshly, 'You do want the truth, don't you?'

  Cassandra swallowed hard. 'Yes,' she said, a little shakily.

  'Sure? You might not like it. It isn't a very pleasant little story.'

  'I'm listening,' she said evenly.

  It was a couple of minutes before he began talking again, 'I first met Adrienne about six years ago. She was the type most men go for, and I was no exception. She was quite something to look at—bright red hair, huge green eyes, and she moved just like a cat. I've never seen anyone so graceful, so supple. But she was like a cat in other ways, as well. Playful one moment, and spitting mad the next. And she certainly liked to use her claws—'

  Cassandra gave a faint sigh. 'Why do men always fall for women like that?'

  'Perhaps we're masochists at heart,' Jared replied drily. 'Or maybe it's just a question of male pride. We all think that we're the one who can tame the tiger.'

  'And did you? Tame her, I mean?'

  'Of course not. And if it's any consolation, today I wouldn't even try. This is one male who's definitely got wiser as he's grown older. And my tastes have changed, as well. I don't go for all that openly peddled sex any more.'

  'Did you—?' Cassandra paused uncertainly.

  'Love her?' Jared finished for her. 'At the time, I thought I did. We had an affair that went on for a pretty explosive few months. Then one day, she simply walked out. No warning, no word of goodbye—I just got home and found she'd left.'

  Cassandra frowned. 'Why did she go like that?'

  'I dare say she found someone who could offer her more than I could. Adrienne was very fond of expensive presents, exotic holidays—all the good things of life.'

  'Did you try to find her?'

  'Of course, but no one seemed to have the slightest idea where she had gone. And after a while, I was surprised to find that I wasn't even missing her too much. I suppose that says a lot about our relationship. Great in bed, but it didn't have much else going for it.' Jared gave a wry shrug. 'Women probably pick their partners much more carefully. Men rely far too much on their libido. They think if the sex is fine, then the rest will automatically work out as well.'

  'If Adrienne walked out on you, how did you come to marry her?' Cassandra asked.

  His tone was much more sombre when he finally replied. 'She waltzed back into my life about three years later. Literally turned up on my doorstep—only this time, she had a young boy in tow. She said she had no money and nowhere to go, and that I had to take the two of them in.'

  'And you took her back?' Cassandra said a little incredulously. 'Just like that?'

  'No, not just like that,' Jared replied in a dark voice. 'Only after she told me the kid was mine.'

  For the first time, Cassandra twisted round so that she could see his face. Then she gave a brief shiver as she saw the grim
expression written there.

  'You believed her?' she said rather shakily.

  'Of course not. At least, not at first. But I could hardly leave the two of them standing there. The kid looked cold and tired—no one with an ounce of pity could have turned him away.' He closed his eyes briefly, as if he could see all over again the young boy standing there, waiting to be let into his home—and his life. 'He was a plain-looking kid,' he said steadily. 'A bit too thin, and he had a runny nose—but he had these bright eyes. You could see just by looking at him that there was a good brain inside that head of his.'

  'And was he—?' Cassandra found it extraordinarily difficult to get the words out. 'Was he really yours?'

  Jared gave a small gesture with one hand. 'I don't know. Adrienne insisted he was. She said she found out she was pregnant just a couple of weeks after she left me. Apparently, it hadn't been enough to make her want to come back, though. She didn't do that until she was really down on her luck.'

  'Wasn't there some way you could prove it one way or the other? Blood tests, or something like that?'

  'Probably. It never seemed to matter, though. By the time that kid had been there a couple of weeks, he had me well and truly hooked. He was nothing to look at, but he was so damned bright. And loving. He hadn't had much of a life, always on the move, and no real stability, but he hadn't let it get to him. He just took each day as it came, and got absolutely everything he could out of it. I grew to really love that kid—'

  'And so you married Adrienne,' Cassandra said quietly.

  'The boy needed a settled, stable home. I knew I could give him that. What was I meant to do?' Jared challenged with sudden fierceness. 'Just kick him out? Could you have done it?'

  'No, I don't suppose I could,' she admitted in a low voice. 'But marriage to Adrienne—wasn't there some other way?'

  'No,' Jared said flatly. 'The boy needed something permanent, not some arrangement that could fall apart at any moment.'

  'And what about Adrienne? Did she need a lot of persuading?'

  Jared gave a rather grim smile. 'None at all. Things hadn't been going too well for her. The kind of men she liked—the well-off, the well-connected—began to shy away once they found she had a child in tow. My offer of marriage was the best she'd had for a couple of years. She jumped at it. And for a while, things didn't go too badly. We both made an effort—for our own sake, as well as the boy's. She couldn't keep it up, though. Eventually, there were other men. And she did her damnedest to run us into debt, with her endless extravagances.'