Ice In His Veins

by Carole Mortimer

  He frowned. ‘Don’t you know?’

  Her smile faded. ‘I never met him. My parents were divorced,’ she explained briefly. ‘Tell me, what do you do for a living that you have a Tuesday afternoon off?’ she changed the subject.

  ‘You see before you the next great artist of the decade,’ he told her jokingly.

  ‘I do?’ she teased. ‘I don’t remember ever seeing a Gary Nichols painting.’

  ‘Oh, you haven’t. No, they’re so rare and exclusive that anyone who has one keeps it firmly under lock and key.’

  ‘I see,’ she said, tongue in cheek. ‘You must be good.’

  Gary laughed. ‘Seriously, I am hoping for great things one day. I have an exhibition in a few months’ time.’

  Eden was suitably impressed. ‘Then you are good. I’d like to see some of your work some time.’

  ‘I’ll have to remember that—“Would you like to come up and see my paintings?”,’ he quipped. ‘So original,’ he grimaced. ‘Although there’s a problem about that, I share a flat.’

  ‘Hard luck,’ she teased.

  ‘What do you do? Or are you just over for a holiday?’

  She sobered as she remembered all too clearly her reason for being in England. ‘Neither. I—er—I’m here visiting relatives.’

  ‘You’re staying with them?’ He sipped his coffee.

  ‘I’m staying with—with Jason, he’s a friend of my grandfather,’ she explained at his sharp look. ‘Really,’ she added as she saw his look of speculation. ‘He’s Jason Earle,’ she said desperately.

  ‘He’s Isobel Morton’s boy-friend, isn’t he?’

  Eden frowned. ‘You know about that?’

  ‘Well, I should do, it’s in the newspapers this morning. Here,’ he pulled a crumpled edition out of his coat pocket, spreading it out on the table. ‘See. The article’s about the death of David Morton, but it does mention that—Hey, are you all right?’ He noticed her pallor for the first time.

  ‘Yes, I—I’m fine.’ She hadn’t realised her grandfather’s death would make the headlines. The newspaper Mrs Gifford had brought in for her had remained untouched on the table, and she wished now she had thought to look at it. Her grandfather’s death looked so stark printed there in black and white, and it wasn’t the sort of thing she would have wanted to see for the first time in front of a stranger. ‘Would you excuse me?’ She stood up shakily, dashing to the toilets that were near by.

  She had seen a picture of Jason and Isobel Morton in the article, a picture of them together at some charity dinner they had attended at some time, and there had been another photograph, one of her grandfather. He had looked very much as she had thought he would look, tall and thin, with a strong determination to his harsh face, his thick hair iron-grey and very distinguished. It was impossible to tell the colour of his eyes, but they looked a curiously clear colour—tawny, Jason had called them.

  Her breakfast left her body with an aching wrench, although she felt much better when the sickness had passed. She splashed cold water all over her face, refreshed if still very pale. While she had been able to think of her grandfather as a remote figure in the background of her life his death hadn’t meant that much to her, but seeing what he looked like had made it a painful reality. She might not have known him, but in the end he had cared enough about her to provide for her.

  Now she cried the tears that wouldn’t come yesterday, cried for all the years wasted, years when they could have been close in their hearts if not in miles. She sobbed and sobbed, glad that no other women came into the room to interrupt her grief.

  Finally she calmed, a curious peace coming over her as she came to a decision. She would stop fighting Jason about staying in England, would accept the gift her grandfather had made her, would stay here as he had obviously intended her to. The decision made, she made the necessary repairs to her make-up, only a certain redness to her eyes evidence of her grief by the time she had finished. Only someone with a discerning eye would know she had been crying at all.

  Unfortunately Gary had more than a discerning eye, he had an artist’s critical gaze, and knew straight away the tears she had shed. ‘Let’s go,’ he said instantly she rejoined him. ‘I’ve already paid the bill.’

  Eden followed him in a slight daze, not as collected as she had thought she was.

  ‘What an idiot I am,’ Gary muttered almost to himself. ‘I should have realised…. You’re the granddaughter who arrived from America yesterday.’

  Here eyes widened. ‘The newspaper mentioned me?’

  ‘It mentions the whole family. God, I’m sorry. I really went in with both feet there.’ He sighed. ‘I should have known, should have connected—As soon as you said Jason Earle was a friend of your grandfather I should have known. I’m really sorry.’

  ‘It’s all right,’ she gave a rather wan smile. ‘Just reaction setting in, I think.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. It must have been a terrible experience for you, to arrive just too late. What an awful thing to happen!’

  ‘It was rather,’ she admitted quietly. ‘Still,’ she straightened her shoulders, ‘Life has a way of turning out like that.’ As she was learning to her cost. And the repercussion of her grandfather’s death was that Isobel Morton hated her, really hated her. But it didn’t matter, couldn’t matter, because no matter what the opposition she was going to take over her grandfather’s business interests, would somehow contrive to continue with his success. Jason had said her grandfather had made provision for her inexperience and so perhaps she wouldn’t find it as difficult to carry out his work as she had at first thought.

  ‘Are you feeling better now?’ Gary looked down at her with concerned blue eyes.

  ‘Much,’ she even managed another smile. ‘It never pays to bottle these things up. But I’ll be fine now. I rarely cry about something a second time,’ although death had never touched her before.

  ‘But surely—’

  ‘Would you mind if I left you now, Gary?’ she cut in. ‘I’d like to go home—back to Jason’s.’ She turned away, only to turn back again. ‘Thank you for the coffee,’ she murmured.

  Gary put out a hand to stop her. ‘Let me drive you home.’

  ‘No! Really. I—I can get a taxi.’

  ‘I’ll drive you,’ he insisted firmly, taking charge of her. ‘It’s the least I can do.’

  She could imagine Jason’s face if he saw her turn up with Gary! ‘I’d rather—’

  ‘Let me, Eden. Please. I’d like to.’

  She couldn’t resist the ‘little boy’ appeal in his eyes. ‘Okay. But I can’t ask you in,’ she added hastily. ‘I’m only a guest there.’

  ‘I’ll just drive you back and leave you at the door,’ he promised.

  His car was parked outside his flat, ten minutes’ walk away. He raised his eyebrows when Eden gave him the address, but made no comment. But the look was enough, telling her that Jason’s house must stand in an exclusive area of London.

  He came round to open the door for her once they reached the house. ‘Can I see you again?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m unsure of my plans.’

  ‘Please, Eden,’ his voice had lowered pleadingly. ‘I’d like to see you again.’

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  ‘Say yes, Eden,’ he prompted. ‘Or at least give me your telephone number.’

  Eden bit her lip thoughtfully. He had been nice to her, that she couldn’t deny. Besides, he was at least one friend in what had so far seemed a totally hostile country to her. ‘I may be moving from here soon, this is only a temporary measure.’

  ‘Surely Mr Earle would be able to pass on where you’ve gone to.’

  ‘Okay.’ She handed him the slip of paper from her pocket that she had written the telephone number down on for herself. ‘But if Jason answers I couldn’t guarantee his mood to you. He can be very surly.’ That was an understatement!

  Gary grinned. ‘So I’ve read. I’ll be polite, don’t worry. B
ut I’ll leave it a couple of days. You—er—you’ll have a lot of things to do the next few days.’

  ‘Leave it until next week,’ she advised. ‘Maybe by then things might have fallen into some sort of order.’ Although with Jason around she doubted it!

  She stood and waved to him as he drove off, aware of having made a friend. The ‘things’ she had referred to would mainly consist of attending the funeral. But she wouldn’t cry, she knew she wouldn’t, she was all cried out. And that would just convince Jason what a hard little bitch she was. If only he knew!

  Before she had time to knock the front door flew open with a crash and Jason stood in front of her, his face contorted with anger. He pulled her ruthlessly inside and slammed the door, dragging her into the privacy of his study before pushing her away from him.

  ‘Where the hell have you been?’ he demanded through gritted teeth.

  Eden blinked dazedly. ‘I’ve been out. I told Mrs Gifford—’

  ‘That you were going to look at the shops,’ he finished grimly. ‘And yet you arrived back here with some man in tow.’

  ‘How do you know it wasn’t a taxi?’ Although she had to admit the gold and black Mini hadn’t looked anything like a taxi.

  He eyed her suspiciously. ‘Was it?’

  ‘No,’ she admitted guiltily, looking down at the carpet, anywhere but into that lividly angry face.

  ‘So, where did you pick him up?’

  ‘At the park,’ she mumbled.

  ‘You mean you did pick him up?’ Jason sounded incredulous.

  ‘Well, I—No. He—’

  ‘He picked you up. My God! You don’t hang about, do you?’ His gaze swept over her with obvious disgust. ‘Here one day and already you’ve found a man to share your bed!’

  Colour flooded her cheeks, cheeks that seconds ago had been deathly white. How dared he! How dared he! ‘Another man,’ she said with emphasis. ‘I already have an open invitation from you.’

  ‘You little—’

  ‘Was I mistaken?’ she asked with feigned innocence. ‘Last night you—’

  ‘Shut up, you little bitch!’ he ordered savagely. ‘Isobel is in the lounge. And you know damned well how possessive she’s suddenly become over me.’

  ‘Oh God….’ Eden groaned. Her desire to hit out at Jason hadn’t included hurting the curiously vulnerable Isobel Morton. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ she demanded in a fierce whisper.

  ‘I didn’t think it was necessary,’ he muttered furiously. ‘You said you had no intention of hitting out at Isobel through me.’

  ‘And I still haven’t,’ she hissed. ‘Not with someone like you involved. Gary is much more my type, he doesn’t make a big thing about sleeping together.’

  ‘He just does it, I suppose,’ Jason scoffed.

  ‘That’s right,’ she glared at him defiantly. ‘Shouldn’t you be getting back to your fiancée?’ she sneered.

  Those grey eyes kindled dangerously. ‘She is not my fiancée, and never has been! And she’s here to see you.’

  Eden couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘She is?’

  ‘Yes. She wants you to move in with her.’

  ‘But she said—Oh, I get it,’ Eden scorned. ‘She doesn’t really want me living with her, but she doesn’t want me staying here with you either. Well, thanks, but no, thanks. If you want me to move out of here I’ll go to a hotel.’

  ‘I don’t want you to move out, for God’s sake!’ he snapped. ‘Isobel just thought—’

  ‘I’ll bet she did,’ Eden said vehemently. ‘I’m not going! I refuse to go! I don’t want to go and stay with her.’

  ‘I get the message, Eden,’ he drawled. ‘Don’t protest too much, I might get the impression that it’s really because you don’t want to leave me.’

  ‘Then you would be wrong. If your example just now of exploding just because I came back with a boy is anything to go by I—’

  ‘A boy you admit you let pick you up,’ he cut in coldly. ‘Just what kind of girl are you?’

  ‘I thought you had me all worked out, Jason. I’m a girl out for every cheap thrill I can get, even from someone I only met today in the park. With the exception of you I don’t even care who it is, as long as he’s male. And I don’t want to have to answer to you for my every move. I’d have more freedom at a hotel. I—’

  ‘Shut up, girl!’ He took her savagely by the shoulders, bending his head to grind his lips down on hers in a gesture that was purely anger and owed nothing to passion. When he finally put her away from him she was dazedly silent. ‘That’s one way of quietening you,’ he said with satisfaction.

  ‘Jason….’ All the fire had died out of her, his punishing kiss subduing her as nothing else could have done.

  His eyes darkened. ‘Oh God, Eden, you—’

  ‘Jason? Jason, where are you?’ Isobel Morton’s husky voice called out to him. ‘Darling?’

  Eden had stiffened at the first sound of that seductive voice, gathering her scattered defences together with effort. Why was it that Jason had the power to make her forget everything but him? She had forgotten Isobel Morton, forgotten everything but the feel of Jason’s lips on hers. ‘I think she wants you,’ she told him shakily.

  ‘A second ago I thought you wanted me.’ He watched her with narrowed eyes.

  ‘Oh!’ she gasped at his bluntness. ‘You bigheaded—’

  ‘There you are, darling,’ Isobel Morton came into the room. ‘And Eden too.’

  Jason frowned at her, moving to her side. ‘You should have stayed in the other room. You know you aren’t well.’

  In fact she didn’t look well, her cheeks chalky white, her lipstick a vivid splash of colour in her face, the brown eyes shadowed. She was still well groomed, her clothes perfect, her hair styled in soft waves, and yet the recent bereavement seemed to have hit her hard.

  Isobel smiled at him. ‘I was worried about you, darling. You seemed to have been gone such a long time. I didn’t realise Eden was here.’

  ‘She arrived a few minutes ago.’ Jason turned her firmly back towards the lounge, seeing her seated before turning to face Eden.

  Eden flinched at the warning in his eyes. Just what sort of person did he think she was? Did he think she was going to tell this woman who seemed to think she had some claim on him that only seconds ago he had been kissing Eden, that he had kissed her last night too? Did he really think she would do a thing like that? This woman might have taken her father from her mother, but she certainly wouldn’t do the same thing to her.

  ‘How are you feeling now?’ Eden asked her politely.

  ‘Better, thank you,’ Isobel replied rather coolly. ‘I believe I was rather rude to you yesterday—I’m sorry.’

  Whatever Eden had expected from this woman it had not been an apology. After all, she must be feeling very bitter still about the way David Morton had left his money.

  ‘Jason tells me my behaviour was atrocious,’ Isobel Morton continued. ‘He was quite cross with me.’

  These words somehow took away the sincerity of the apology made only seconds earlier. Eden had no doubt that if Jason hadn’t been ‘cross’ with Isobel then no apology would have been forthcoming. ‘That’s perfectly all right,’ Eden accepted distantly.

  Anger flashed momentarily in those dark brown eyes before it was quickly masked. She put her hand on Jason’s thigh as he sat beside her on the sofa, smiling up at him. ‘He can be such a bear,’ she said, as if it didn’t matter what mood he was in as long as he was with her.

  This relationship sickened Eden. No matter what Isobel Morton felt for Jason, and Eden doubted it was love, she knew he was not in love with this woman, being too much of a cynic to ever fall in love and so make himself vunerable to any woman. Besides, he couldn’t have been so familiar with her and be in love with this woman.

  ‘I can imagine,’ Eden said dryly, noting with satisfaction the involuntary tightening of Jason’s mouth. ‘But you have no need to apologise, I understood perfectly.’ She unde
rstood that this woman hated her guts!

  ‘There you are, darling,’ Isobel looked poutingly at Jason. ‘Now are you going to stop being so annoyed with me?’

  He removed her hand from his thigh. ‘I’m not annoyed with you,’ he said impatiently. ‘And you had no need to make the apology right now, I merely told you to make one when you were feeling better. I didn’t expect you to insist on coming here today.’

  ‘I didn’t come here just for that,’ Isobel replied smoothly. ‘You must realise that Eden can’t stay here with you any longer.’

  Eden stiffened. ‘But I—’

  ‘You must see it won’t do, Eden.’ Isobel looked at her with hard eyes. ‘You can’t stay here alone with Jason. The press would make a meal out of information like that!’

  Eden’s mouth twisted with bitter humour. ‘I can assure you I have no designs—’

  ‘Eden and I have talked about it, Isobel,’ Jason cut in firmly, his tone brooking no further argument from her. ‘I think for the time being it would be better if she stayed here. I know this is hardly the time to discuss it, but once David’s will comes into operation I’m going to need easy access to Eden.’

  Eden’s eyes widened. ‘What on earth do you mean? What does—what does my grandfather’s will have to do with you?’

  ‘Quite a lot,’ he said tautly. ‘As you’ll soon find out.’

  She frowned. ‘But I don’t understand….’

  ‘It’s perfectly simple,’ Isobel Morton snapped. ‘Your grandfather has left you almost everything he possessed, but, in his wisdom, he has left it to you under the guidance of Jason.’

  Eden gulped. ‘You mean—’

  ‘I mean that in a way Jason is now your guardian.’ Isobel glared her dislike of her.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ‘BUT he can’t be!’ Eden gasped. ‘I have a mother—I can’t just be put under the guardianship of a complete stranger!’

  ‘I won’t be that sort of guardian,’ Jason told her in a bored voice. ‘Although there are some aspects of your life that could use a little controlling.’

  She had no doubt which ‘aspects’ he referred to. ‘Then what sort of guardian will you be?’ she demanded to know, sitting on the edge of her seat in her agitation.