The Tempestuous Flame

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The Tempestuous Flame Page 9

by Carole Mortimer


  ‘Why not? The fish are still in there, no matter what time of year it is. Matt told me there’s a lake about half a mile away.’

  ‘There is—I just don’t see you as the fishing type.’

  ‘I’m not usually, but Matt said I could use his gear, see if I like it. I’ll try anything once. I believe it’s supposed to be restful.’

  ‘So I’ve heard. My—Matt seems to have said quite a lot to you,’ she said casually. ‘I didn’t realise you knew him that well.’

  André stood up, flexing his muscles under the fitted black shirt. ‘I’ve known him for years. Just because you’re his girl-friend it doesn’t mean he has to tell you about all his friends.’

  That would have been true if that were the true circumstances of their relationship, but it seemed rather strange in the real state of facts. She must ask her father for further details about this man. It seemed strange that he hadn’t telephoned today.

  ‘Have you been abroad or something? That tan wasn’t acquired here in England,’ and it could explain her never having heard of him.

  ‘I live in the States a lot of the time, and Australia too. I have business interests in both places. I’ve just spent three months in Australia. Answer your question?’ he mocked.

  ‘Yes.’ She tidied the room, throwing away all the sketches of him, including the one in the pad. She avoided his taunting eyes.

  ‘So how about you? You’re not exactly one of the most talked-about women in the country.’

  But she was! The gossip columns always seemed to be coupling her name with one man or another, and as she was expected to be one of the richest women in the world one day, they often speculated who was to be her consort. ‘No,’ she lied huskily.

  ‘And Matt’s kept pretty quiet about you too.’

  ‘Wouldn’t you?’

  Those green eyes swept over her, noting the soft firm curves below the checked shirt and fitted denims she wore. ‘I guess I would,’ he eventually agreed. ‘He probably doesn’t want to take the risk of losing you.’

  ‘He’ll never lose me.’ Fathers never lost their daughters.

  ‘Okay. So are you coming fishing or aren’t you?’

  ‘Well, as you’ve never fished before I think I should come along and make sure you don’t fall in or something. At least if that happens I can have a good laugh. I wouldn’t like to miss that.’

  ‘Thanks!’

  She gave a grin. ‘Now that I think about it I’m quite looking forward to it.’

  André laughed too. ‘Believe me, if I go in I’ll make sure I take you with me, even if I have to get back out and carry you in.’

  ‘That isn’t very nice.’

  ‘No,’ he agreed with relish.

  Caroline licked her lips nervously. ‘Look, are you sure—I mean, are you sure you want me along? Last night—’

  He shrugged. ‘Last night was last night.’

  ‘And this morning,’ she added resentfully.

  ‘Ah, now that was your fault.’ He turned her forcefully out of the room and pushed her into her bedroom. She looked at him sharply. He sighed. ‘My, my, you are suspicious! You’ll need some warmer clothing on to go fishing, it’s damned cold out there. Forget this morning,’ he dismissed. ‘You were just sulking.’

  ‘I was not! I——’

  ‘Caroline!’ he warned impatiently. ‘I’m not the most forgiving of men, but I’m willing to start again where you’re concerned. If you don’t want to do that then that’s fine by me, I can get through life without us being friends.’

  ‘I see, this offer to take me with you is in the nature of an olive branch?’

  ‘If you like to think so.’ He moved back to the door. ‘You have five minutes to get ready. ‘I’ll be waiting in the car, I’ve already packed the fishing gear.’

  ‘Do you want any lunch packed?’ Caroline pulled a thick sweater out of one of the drawers.

  ‘I don’t think so. Perhaps we can call in at a pub for lunch first. I don’t particularly want to eat after handling maggots.’

  She screwed up her face. ‘Maggots! Can’t you use something else? Da—Matt always uses sweet corn and cheese.’

  ‘Darling Matt,’ he guessed her unfinished word completely wrong, ‘has some pretty good ideas at times. Did he catch anything worth getting cold for?’

  ‘Quite a few large fish. I couldn’t tell you the names of them, I’m not up on fish, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Oh well, sweet corn and cheese will do. To tell you the truth, I didn’t fancy touching maggots. I’m not even sure I’m going to like fishing.’

  ‘But you’ll try anything once,’ she teased, not sure herself that he had the patience that seemed to be required for this pastime; her father usually packed up and came home after a couple of hours.

  Five minutes later, the sweet corn and cheese duly added to the fishing gear, they were on their way. They decided to forgo lunch and have a big meal later. It wasn’t far to the lake, but it could have seemed that way if they had had to carry all the paraphernalia that seemed to be necessary for what seemed a boring hobby to Caroline. She had only agreed to come because she was fed up with her own company.

  She helped him unload the car and watched in amusement for the next ten minutes as he attempted to put the rod and line together. ‘So, where did you go this morning?’ she asked casually.

  André looked at her sharply, but her face remained impassive, revealing none of the intense interest she really felt. She hadn’t forgotten the explosion of yesterday morning to risk his anger again so quickly. ‘I went to get this.’ He took something out of his pocket and threw it at her.

  Caroline picked it up, turning it over. ‘Oh,’ she said disappointedly. ‘A one-day fishing licence.’

  ‘Where did you expect me to have been?’ He grinned his satisfaction at the completion of his task.

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I haven’t been with Eve Gresham, if that’s what you’ve been thinking. In fact, I haven’t seen her since we called at the farm together yesterday.’

  ‘But last night—’

  ‘Last night I let you believe what you wanted to believe—and you certainly did that! I went out to dinner—alone. If you remember I did tell you I wasn’t seeing Mrs Gresham. You didn’t want to listen.’

  ‘I just assumed…’

  ‘You just assumed that because Eve Gresham is a beautiful woman, and I like beautiful women, I would automatically make a play for her. It doesn’t always work that way. I’m not saying I couldn’t find her very attractive, I’m just saying she doesn’t interest me at the moment. I don’t like getting involved where children are concerned—so that rules you out completely,’ he added tauntingly.

  ‘André! You—’

  ‘All right,’ he held up a silencing hand. ‘I was just teasing you. You’re too sensitive. I couldn’t give a damn about the seventeen years’ difference in our ages. If you carry on gaining experience as you have been doing you’ll soon catch me up anyway.’

  ‘André! You said you wanted us to start again,’ she reminded him.

  ‘I’m not sure that’s really possible. I still have too vivid a picture of how good you felt in my arms. Give me a few days and perhaps I’ll get over it.’

  Caroline lapsed into silence, not wishing to dissect her own reaction to him too deeply. She had avoided doing so ever since it happened, and Brian’s kiss of last night had done little to wipe out the memory. That was probably why André’s taunting had angered her so much. He happened to be right in everything he had said.

  ‘Do you have to?’ she asked suddenly.

  ‘Have to what?’ His concentration was all on the float bobbing happily on the water, waiting for that extra large bob that would tell him a fish was biting his bait.

  ‘Get over it.’ She avoided his probing eyes.

  ‘Oh, I think so. If only out of loyalty to Matt. I take it you do know what loyalty is?’

  ‘I know. And if I were to tel
l you—’ she took a deep breath. ‘If I were to tell you that there’s nothing between Matt and myself, how would you feel then?’

  ‘I would feel you were lying. I’ve witnessed his concern for you, remember?’

  ‘And if I told you that was guilt, guilt because he wants to end things between us and is too nice a man to be able to tell me?’

  ‘Then I would definitely know you were lying,’ he said firmly. ‘Matt isn’t a fool, and if he didn’t want you he would tell you honestly. Why should all this concern me anyway? There’s been one incident between us that could be termed as not strictly innocent, everything else between us is the politeness that has to exist between two people attempting to share a house.’

  Caroline’s mouth tightened. She would get to this man if it was the last thing she did! He wasn’t as indifferent to her as he kept insisting he was, and she intended to prove that to him. It was going to take time, that was all, but the feeling of elation at the end of it would be worth it.

  As she had guessed, fishing didn’t suit André; the couple of feeble bites he had did not excite his interest at all. Two hours after they had started out they were back in the car, the main catch of the day a large lump of weed from the bottom of the lake.

  ‘Come on,’ André turned to grin at her. ‘I’ll make you an extra large late lunch. This place isn’t exactly overflowing with entertainment. What do you usually do when you come here? No—strike that question. It’s pretty obvious what you do, in between sketching and painting, of course.’

  ‘You’re wrong. Matt hardly ever comes here. His daughter uses it much more than he does.’

  ‘He didn’t tell me mat,’ he frowned. ‘It could have been rather awkward if it had been her here instead of you.’

  They drew into the yard at the back of the cottage. ‘Why any more awkward than us sharing?’

  André opened the car door for her. ‘Just think what the newspapers could make of it: “Famous business tycoon at girl’s love-nest”,’ he quoted. ‘I can just see it now,’ he grimaced. ‘And I wouldn’t like it, believe me.’

  Neither would she! She didn’t mind playing this little game off against André in private, but she didn’t want anyone else to know of their living arrangements. But someone else already knew, her father! And he wasn’t past using his knowledge to get her to meet Greg Fortnum. She realised now that she had played right into his hands. No wonder he hadn’t insisted too strongly on her leaving; this hold over her would suit him perfectly. The scandal, if this ever got out, wouldn’t cause a ripple in her father’s life, whereas it could absolutely ruin her own. The devious old devil!

  But she couldn’t wholly blame him for taking advantage of the accidental situation here; he had ordered her to return home. And she had refused, as he had known she would! She had never responded to direct orders, and he knew it—wily old fox!

  André looked in at the open door at her. ‘Are you going to sit there all day?’ He locked the car door as she stepped out. ‘And why the smile?’

  She looked at him vaguely. ‘Oh, just thoughts.’

  ‘Pleasant ones, no doubt.’

  ‘Just thoughts.’

  ‘Well, come on, I’m going to make you the best beefburgers you’ve ever tasted—with all the trimmings,’ he promised.

  He was as good as his word, and Caroline could hardly move after eating just one of the gigantic beefburgers, topped with onions, lettuce, and tomato. André managed to eat two, but he looked just as ready to burst as she did when he had finished them.

  When the telephone rang she naturally assumed it would be her father. She made a grab for the telephone, but André was there before her. ‘It’s for you,’ he handed her the receiver. ‘Wells,’ he added.

  ‘Brian!’ her face brightened. ‘What can I do for you?’

  ‘Quite a lot, I should think,’ came the cryptic comment from behind her.

  She put her hand over the mouthpiece. ‘Do you mind!’ she glared at him.

  ‘Just carry on, don’t mind me.’

  ‘I don’t intend to.’ She turned away. ‘That sounds lovely, Brian. What time? Seven o’clock? That will be fine. Right, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ and she put down the telephone.

  ‘My, my,’ André taunted. ‘You are popular today!’

  Caroline put down her coffee cup. ‘So are you, apparently. We’re both invited over to dinner tomorrow evening. I accepted for both of us,’ she gave him a sweet smile.

  ‘I see,’ he pursed his lips thoughtfully. ‘Sometimes I wish the telephone had never been invented.’

  ‘I’m sure Mrs Gresham would only have walked over and invited you if that were the case.’

  ‘Maybe.’ André lay back in the chair, his bare feet resting on the mantelpiece. ‘Mm, this is the relaxing life I need. I think I could get to quite like it if I stayed too long.’

  Caroline looked at him sharply. ‘You’re thinking of leaving?’

  ‘No, not yet anyway.’

  ‘Oh.’ She tried not to sound too happy about it, but she knew if he left now she wouldn’t want to stay any longer either. The cottage would seem flat and lifeless without him here, his caustic tongue could be quite cutting at times, but he added the necessary spice to alleviate the boredom.

  She watched him now as the firelight played across the fine planes of his face. A strong face that dominated, eyes like emeralds and as piercing as a jungle cat, firm white teeth, a strong jawline, all held at an arrogant angle. It was an arresting face, one not easily forgotten, and in the recesses of her mind she knew she had seen him somewhere before. Most of all it was a face worth getting down on canvas.

  ‘Would you sit for me?’ She looked at him hopefully.

  André ran a hand over his darkened jawline. ‘You mean you want to paint me?’ He quirked an eyebrow at her.

  ‘That’s the general idea,’ she nodded.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You have an interesting face,’ she admitted grudgingly. ‘Very striking.’

  ‘And what would you do with the portrait once it was finished?’

  Good question. In fact she had no idea what she would do with a painting of this man, she only knew she wanted to paint him. ‘Perhaps you would like to have it?’ she suggested.

  ‘Buy it, you mean?’

  ‘No,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t sell my paintings, they aren’t good enough for that. Anyway, I don’t need the money.’

  ‘And I don’t really need a portrait of myself.’

  ‘Oh, please yourself!’ She stood up angrily.

  He smiled at her anger. ‘What a little spitfire you are! Don’t be so touchy. If you want something to do then by all means paint me. But don’t expect me to sit still for hours on end. You’ll just have to make some sketches and work from those. I don’t like being restricted—in any way.’

  ‘I usually work that way anyway. I have a great one of Matt, would you like to see it?’ she asked eagerly.

  ‘If I must,’ he said in a bored voice.

  ‘Don’t force yourself!’

  ‘Oh, go and get it, girl. If you don’t soon get used to my abrupt manner there are going to be a lot of arguments around here during the next few days.’ He turned to look at her. ‘Go and get the painting. Or would you rather I came up with you?’

  As it hung in place of honour in her bedroom she didn’t think that a good idea. ‘No. I—I won’t be a moment.’

  It didn’t take her long to run upstairs and take the picture off the wall. It was one of her better efforts, showing clearly the determined outline of her father’s features. It had also been painted with love, and it showed. She only hoped André wouldn’t comment on that.

  He didn’t, although she was sure he noticed it. ‘Very good,’ he approved. ‘You really do have talent. Perhaps I will buy the one of me after all. I can keep it for my ancestors, if I ever have any.’

  ‘Oh, you’ll have some, I’m sure of it. And I’ll give you the painting, but it probably won’t be finished for m
onths ahead. I’m very slow and meticulous. And I’ll need plenty of sketches. I want to get your features from different angles and moods before I decide how I want to paint you.’

  ‘When do you want to start?’

  ‘How about right now?’ Now that she had made the decision she didn’t want to waste any time. She couldn’t be sure of how long he was staying.

  ‘Down here, or do you need to go up to your studio?’

  ‘Here will be fine, although I’ll just take this back upstairs and get my sketch pad. I’ll have to rely on memory for skin tones and the colour of your eyes,’ she muttered thoughtfully to herself as she left the room.

  ‘I didn’t know you’d looked at my eyes long enough to know what colour they are,’ he commented when she returned to the lounge. ‘I suppose we could always do a bit of gazing into each other’s eyes. Yours are blue, I know that, but they could use a little more studying.’

  ‘That won’t be necessary,’ she said primly. ‘I know exactly what colour eyes you have.’

  ‘Oh, what a shame!’ André stood up and began unbuttoning his shirt.

  As he began to slip it off his shoulders Caroline became rather worried. ‘What are you doing?’ she asked desperately.

  ‘Taking off my clothes,’ he said casually. ‘I fancied a nude painting. You know, lounging on the sofa and all that.’

  Caroline blushed a fiery red. ‘I’m not painting you nude! I—I’ve never seen a man naked.’

  He stopped in the process of undoing the button at the top of his trousers. ‘Never?’

  ‘Never,’ she shook her head firmly.

  He grinned broadly and pulled his shirt back on. ‘If you could see your face, Caro!’ he laughed openly now. ‘I think I forgot to mention that I have a warped sense of humour. I had no intention of removing all my clothes, not for a painting anyway. God, your face was so funny!’

  ‘Well, thank you! I’m glad I can provide you with a little light entertainment!’ Caroline slammed the door behind her and ran up to her room.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ANDRÉ knocked on the door for the second time. ‘Oh, come on, Caro. It was only a little harmless fun. You’re so easy to tease, I couldn’t resist it.’

 

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