by Helen Brooks
The meal, at a wonderful little Italian restaurant a short drive from the theatre, was delicious, and contrary to all her expectations Kim found herself relaxing enough to enjoy the excellent food.
Lucas seemed to have metamorphosed into yet another of his many selves and this one, a convivial and charming dinner companion, was sufficiently non-threatening to be, if not quite comfortable, then certainly agreeable.
He didn’t mention her disclosure from their talk at the theatre during the meal, nor yet on the drive home, and Kim felt too emotionally drained to bring up the original purpose of their dinner date. Anxious as she was to set their relationship on the right footing again, any further discussion about it was beyond her for the moment.
She stared out into the dark night as the Aston Martin purred through misty, deserted streets.
Lucas was the most confusing, exasperating, arrogant, authoritarian man she’d ever met, she told herself crossly, painfully conscious of every tiny movement from the hard male body at her side.
Since they had started the drive home he hadn’t said more than a word or two, his attention seemingly concentrated on his driving, but the silence was neither quiet or restful—as far as Kim was concerned. In fact the car seemed to vibrate with a throbbing current which was setting Kim’s teeth on edge, as though fingernails were rasping down a slate blackboard.
She was feeling horribly vulnerable for a whole host of reasons: all she had revealed about her past, the fact that she had—despite all her efforts to the contrary—enjoyed being with him, but most of all the knowledge that soon—very soon—he would kiss her again. But she could control the kiss this time, she assured herself vehemently. Of course she could. Whatever Lucas expected, she would make sure it was a polite thank you type of embrace, a brief touching of their lips before she got out of the car and she was not—she was not—going to ask him in for coffee.
With each mile that passed Kim could feel herself getting tenser and tenser, and then they were cruising down her street and the Aston Martin nosed its way across the crossover and into the short pebbled drive in front of the cottage.
She was home. Kim took a deep breath, the courteous little speech she had rehearsed for the last ten minutes hovering on her tongue, and then she found the wind completely taken out of her sails when Lucas said, his tone even and pleasant, ‘That was a great evening, Kim. Thank Maggie again for me, would you, for helping out with Melody?’
‘Yes, yes, I will.’ Was that it? That couldn’t be it, surely?
She watched in something approaching disbelief as Lucas opened his door and walked round the wetly gleaming bonnet, and then her door was open and his hand was helping her to alight.
‘Good night, Kim.’ The brushing of her lips was as brief as ever she had determined earlier, but it was Lucas calling the tune and controlling events.
‘Good night.’
The word was still on her lips when he turned and walked back to the car, opening his door and sliding into the leather interior with a cool smile.
How dared he? After all he had said, how dared he not kiss her? she raged silently. Not that she would have allowed the sort of kiss they had shared earlier, not for a minute, but how dared he not try?
She was still standing there, seething with hurt pride and sheer astonishment, when the car backed out of the drive and on to the road beyond. And then it was gone, in a flash of sleek metal and bright lights, and the damp, chilly night enfolded her in its shadowy darkness.
Why hadn’t he kissed her? She touched her mouth with a bemused hand. Really kissed her? She glanced up into the night sky but the dense thick rainclouds held no answers. Didn’t he like her any more? Perhaps he had been bored tonight, the way she’d wished earlier; they said you should be careful what you wished for.
Of course, it was all to the good. She drew in a lungful of cold air that smelt of wet earth and vegetation, and bit her lip against the urge to cry. It really was. This way she was saved the embarrassing necessity of having to rebuff his advances, to fight him off.
Fight him off! She smiled bitterly. He hadn’t been able to get away quickly enough. Well, that was the end of that. She nodded to the thought and then said it out loud, her breath a white cloud in the cold air. And she was glad. She was really, really glad. She only felt this sick churning in her stomach because of the rich food, that was all.
She stood for a few moments more until she became aware her coat was enshrouded with tiny droplets from the misty rain and turned abruptly, squaring her shoulders as she walked over to the front door and searched her small handbag for her key.
It would be work tomorrow as usual.
CHAPTER SEVEN
KIM spent a wretched night tossing and turning and finally gave up all hope of sleep at four in the morning, padding quietly down to the kitchen and making herself a steaming cup of hot chocolate.
She drank it curled up in one of the armchairs with just the dim light from a table lamp lighting the sitting room, and the dying glow from the embers of the fire providing a little warmth.
She didn’t want to feel like this. It was a silent wail but none the less anguished for it. She didn’t want to let any man under her skin ever again. But somehow…somehow Lucas had managed to turn her world upside down in the five months in which she’d worked for him. She had been fighting this strange attraction, this almost consuming fascination from day one, if she was being truthful.
She should never have accepted the post as secretary to Lucas, it had been foolhardy—madness. But then she wouldn’t have had this lovely home, had a chance to clear her debts once and for all and to take charge of her life, and Melody’s, again, would she? she argued back.
And she could get a handle on this; it just needed discipline, and of course it would be a whole lot easier now if he had decided she wasn’t worth the effort.
The thought hit her hard in the chest and she bowed her head over the mug, her eyes desolate. She was going crazy, here, she told herself miserably. She had to pull herself together. She would never contemplate exposing herself and Melody to the risk of another disastrous relationship, she knew that deep inside, so whether Lucas wanted her or not was immaterial.
After another cup of chocolate Kim decided she had moped enough. She set her face resolutely, pulled out the ironing board and tackled the pile of ironing she had been trying to ignore for days. That finished, she fetched out her baking tins and set about making one of the rich chocolate cakes Melody loved so much, followed by a cheese and bacon flan for their tea later that day.
It was light outside by the time she had finished, and after clearing up the kitchen she ran herself a hot bath and luxuriated in the warm bubbles for over half an hour, relishing that she had plenty of time for once.
After washing her hair and applying a rich conditioner she let it dry naturally whilst she creamed every inch of her skin, pampering herself in a way she hadn’t done for ages.
She wanted to look her absolute best today. She didn’t question why it was so important, it just was.
Once in her cream and pine bedroom, Kim contemplated the contents of her wardrobe thoughtfully. She needed to radiate cool control and efficiency. Never mind she didn’t feel it, she told herself bracingly, half the population got through on a wing and a prayer at some point in their lives, and this was her point. She was not going to creep into the office this morning like a small whipped puppy—she was going to be the dignified, mature, capable woman she really was. Simple.
By the time every item of clothing was strewn over the bed, Kim was panicking. It was time to get Melody up for school and normally by now she was dressed, perfectly groomed and had prepared their breakfast.
‘Calm, girl. Calm.’ She spoke out loud before shutting her eyes and breathing in and out deeply a few times. ‘This is just a normal working day. That’s all it is.’
‘Who are you talking to, Mummy?’ Melody had poked her head round the half-open bedroom door and now Kim saw great liqu
id brown eyes surveying her unblinkingly. ‘And why is that big heap of clothes on your bed?’
‘Mummy’s having a sort-out.’
‘Can I take Edward to school to show Kerry and Susan?’ Kim saw the small bear Lucas had bought her was tucked under one pyjama-clad arm where no doubt he’d spent the night. It did not help Kim’s current state of mind an iota.
‘I don’t think so, darling. What if he got lost or dirty?’ Kim said as calmly as she could. ‘Why don’t you put him with all your other cuddly toys and then he’ll be here when you get home tonight?’
Melody considered the suggestion with a tilt of her blonde head. ‘I’ll put him on my pillow,’ she decided firmly, ‘and then all the others will know he’s the boss.’
Kim smiled weakly. It seemed to sum everything up somehow.
Once she had chivvied Melody to have a quick wash and get dressed, Kim nipped downstairs and prepared their breakfast of cereal and toast, before flying upstairs again and reaching for the nearest item of clothing on top of the pile.
She would clear everything away when she got home, she decided feverishly, dressing hastily before brushing her hair through. The conditioner had done its work, and her golden blonde locks hung like a shining silk curtain to her shoulders, her fringe almost shimmering in the artificial light over the mirror.
She could wear her hair loose today. It was a full ten seconds before she realised she was seriously considering the thought, and for all the wrong reasons. She didn’t want Lucas to be attracted to her, she told herself vehemently, or consider what he had missed by not attempting to take things further last night. She didn’t want him in her life, not in a personal sense. He was too manipulative by half, and far too charismatic—he had already won Melody over, hook, line and sinker, and Maggie had been distinctly mellowed by that outrageously extravagant gesture with the flowers.
She glared at the reflection in the mirror before pulling her hair back so ferociously not a wisp dared escape, and once it was secure she applied her usual light make-up and stood back to survey the result.
Her neatly tailored suit in a sedate navy blue was smart and practical, and the cream blouse underneath buttoned right up to the neck with a demure stand-up collar. She looked every inch the executive secretary, and that was all she wanted to look like.
She would go into work as normal this morning, perform her duties to the best of her ability and return home satisfied in the knowledge she had earnt every penny of the excellent salary.
And if—and, going by Lucas’s departure last night, the if was huge—he should ask her for another date she would refuse, politely and firmly, and stand her ground this time, come hell or high water.
Kim drove into the large car park of Kane Electrical at her usual time and then stared in surprise at the empty space next to her reserved spot. No Aston Martin meant no Lucas.
The reason for this became clear when she reached her office. There was a cream envelope on her desk with her name written on it in Lucas’s unmistakable bold black script. The note the envelope contained was brief and to the point:
Kim, my father contacted me just before midnight from the hospital in Florida where they’d taken him and my mother after the car he was driving burst a tyre at high speed. They have a few broken bones between them but I understand the tree that was foolish enough to get in the way fared worse. I’m flying over to check how things are but hope to return tomorrow. Their telephone number is in the address book in the left-hand drawer of my desk if you need me.
There followed a list of instructions about the pile of work under the envelope, followed by his name. And that was all.
Kim stared at the writing for some time, her mind swirling and her conscience telling her she was dreadful, awful, to think about the formal tenor of the letter at a time like this.
His parents were in hospital and he was obviously worried enough to go shooting off halfway across the world; he probably hadn’t had any sleep or food or anything else, and here was she worrying that the letter seemed…cold, off-hand. And why shouldn’t it be, anyway? she reprimanded herself in the next instant. She was his secretary, that was all. That was all she was.
The day dragged interminably, and whether it was due to the sleepless night she had endured or the amount of correspondence she doggedly worked through Kim wasn’t sure, but by the time she left the building her head was thumping and she was so exhausted she went straight to bed as soon as Melody had gone to sleep.
The next morning she tried to ignore the anticipation that was sending little frissons of sensation down her spine on the drive to Kane Electrical, but as the day progressed and there was no word from Lucas Kim found herself leaping to answer the phone each time it rang, and holding her breath every time she heard voices in the corridor outside.
Five o’clock did eventually make its appearance. Kim slid the cover over her word processor and refused to let the cloud made up of hurt and disappointment and a hundred other confused emotions besides settle over her.
She was glad all this had happened right now, she told herself firmly, as she took the lift down to reception. She might, she just might have been foolish enough to take on board some of the things Lucas had said and done if this hadn’t showed her it was all surface level. The wanting her, his quiet gentleness and compassion when she’d revealed a little of how it had been with Graham, the way he’d set out to charm her and make her laugh during their meal—oh, a million things!
She sighed irritably. She still had a whole truckload of ghosts to lay before she could consider herself free from the past, and confronting some of those personal demons was going to be hard enough as it was.
Yes, this was definitely all for the best. When Lucas arrived back in the office no doubt he would resume the easy working relationship he had adopted before that disastrous kiss, and everything would be back to normal. Whatever that was.
When she and Melody got out of the car a little while later, Kim stood for a moment or two on the drive just looking about her.
It was the first day of April, and the spring evening was cool and mellow with a hint of woodsmoke wafting in the lazy breeze that ruffled the branches of the silver birch at the corner of the front garden.
Underneath the tree a host of sweetly coloured crocuses and primroses were in full bloom, and although the pebbled drive made up the rest of the garden the whole effect was pretty and pleasing. And it was hers, all hers, Kim thought soberly. And she had a great job, and she and Melody were healthy and financially secure for the first time in years—everything was terrific.
So why, in view of all that, did she have such a feeling of heaviness on her? Kim asked herself silently. There was a lead weight on her heart and an underlying feeling of restlessness she could well do without.
This was further enhanced when the telephone rang just after she and Melody had finished tea. It was Maggie, and from the tone of her friend’s voice Kim knew immediately something was wrong.
‘I’m taking that job in America for six months, Kim.’ Maggie had told her a few weeks before about the wonderful offer from a wealthy businessman who wanted Maggie to design and oversee the interiors of both his new apartment in New York and a sumptuous beach house in California. But Maggie had been unsure about leaving England—and more particularly Pete—for such a long stretch, and had been dithering as to whether to take the commission. ‘I leave after the weekend.’
‘It’s a brilliant opportunity, Maggie.’ Kim repeated the words she had used when Maggie had first told her about the venture. ‘What made up your mind to accept?’
‘Pete,’ said Maggie flatly. ‘I’ve had enough, Kim. I’ve told him he’s a free agent while I’m gone but if he wants me when I come back it means the whole hog—full commitment, and that includes marriage. I want children, Kim, and soon. We’ve been together long enough for him to make up his mind one way or the other, and this seems like the perfect time for him to sort himself out. If he can’t do without me, great
. If it’s all over when I come home, so be it. This is the short, sharp shock treatment you suggested once.’
‘Are you sure?’ Kim asked anxiously. Maggie worshipped the ground Pete walked on.
‘No, I’m frightened to death he’ll pull the plug, if you want to know,’ Maggie said dejectedly, ‘but I can’t carry on the way we are, either. It’s killing me, Kim. We’ve agreed no contact, no letters or phone calls for the whole of the six months, so it’s really make or break.’
They talked some more and after Kim had replaced the receiver she continued sitting at the foot of the stairs, staring into space.
She’d miss Maggie, and so would Melody, but she felt in her spirit Maggie was doing the right thing. It was a gamble, but then everything in life carried some sort of risk.
She frowned suddenly, aware her mind was trying to tell her something she couldn’t grasp. And then the doorbell rang.
Kim glanced at her watch. Seven o’clock. Who on earth was calling at seven o’clock? she asked herself wearily. It had to be a salesman of some kind or other—the only other person who would pop round was Maggie and she’d only just got off the phone to her. She hoped it wasn’t one of the more persistent individuals, that was all. She didn’t feel like doing battle tonight.
She pulled herself up from the bottom stair and walked across the hall, opening the door with a polite refusal already hovering on her lips. ‘Lucas!’ She could feel the colour pouring into her cheeks but she couldn’t help it.
‘Hello, Kim.’
‘But you’re in America,’ she said stupidly.
‘Am I?’ He smiled. A tired smile. ‘Clever me.’
‘I mean, I thought you were in America,’ she corrected quickly, suddenly hotly aware of the old jeans and skinny-rib jumper she had pulled on before making tea.
‘Can I come in?’
She could feel the intensity of his gaze on her hair, which she had brushed out when she’d changed and was wearing loose on her shoulders, and her blush deepened. ‘Oh, yes. I’m sorry. Of course, come in.’ She was so flustered she nearly fell over her own feet as she backed away from the door, and then Melody emerged from the sitting room like a small bullet, her tiny face all lit up.
