Trust Too Much
Page 6
Simon’s mouth had tightened and as she saw his eyes begin to blaze Fee gave him a taunting little smile before turning and leaving, recognising the signs and quite unable to face his temper. Once in a lifetime had been too often, never to be forgotten.
Horrible, mocking, promiscuous man! But, unlike Vance Sheldon, at least Simon had been open about his intentions—assuming he had any and hadn’t just been flirting, amusing himself by testing her reaction to him, or trying to find out just how much she really had grown up during the years she had been away.
When she got outside the building, she found that clouds had come up to cover the sky although the sun still blazed through them, dulled to silver and turning the city into a sauna.
It might be all right to accept the job. She knew Simon, after all…
But just in case she decided against it and had to spend weeks looking for another, she had better economise by catching a bus home, if only she could remember the number for the buses that went out to Repulse Bay and then find a stop on that route, because the only terminus she recalled was quite a distance away.
She had to ask twice and was misdirected once, but at last she was seated on the correct bus and able to give her attention to a number of questions. The rain was lancing down by the time she reached Repulse Bay, and she had no umbrella with her, but she hardly noticed, still preoccupied.
She thought she was justified in assuming that she would always know where she stood with Simon—he wouldn’t hide his strictly dishonourable intentions the way Vance Sheldon had done—but all the same, she wasn’t going to rush into a decision.
There was her reaction to him to be considered, for one thing. She hadn’t liked that, the way she had forgotten everything in his arms, and the memory made her flush.
Babs met her at the door when she reached the house.
‘Baby, you’re soaked. But how did it go?’
‘I’m not sure. I’d be working for Simon himself, so I think I need to consider everything involved very carefully.’
But her natural reticence stopped her elaborating, and Babs seemed to assume that her doubts stemmed from her old dislike of Simon, leaving her to go upstairs and shower.
The rain continued into the evening, so later, dressed in jeans and a soft, loose T-shirt, Fee sat with Babs and Charles at the bar in one corner of the large covered patio, Charles leaping up when they heard the front doorbell ring. A few minutes later, he brought the caller out to the patio.
‘Here’s Simon,’ he announced unnecessarily as Fee tensed, sensing instinctively that his presence concerned her.
‘I hope this isn’t inconvenient, but Fee called me ancient and walked out on me before I’d said all I had to, so I thought I’d take a chance on finding her here,’ he told the others, flicking Fee an idly mocking glance.
Charles was laughing. ‘Making the most of your opportunities before he becomes your boss and you have to start being respectful, little one?’
‘I haven’t accepted the job yet,’ Fee stated firmly, defiance sparkling in her eyes as they met Simon’s. ‘In fact, I haven’t even had a formal offer yet.’
‘You will,’ Simon promised. ‘But I’m not here about that. I’ve talked to someone in our residential division and brought you a list of places you might like to view as you’ve said you’d be looking for somewhere. I imagine you’re not interested in the central high-rise districts, so these are small blocks, all here on the island and some not that far from here. Of course, once you’re working for us, you’ll qualify for our subsidised homeowning scheme, but I’d recommend that you rent to begin with and not rush into anything.’
He was so confident that she would accept the job that Fee was incensed, but she had to turn her attention to Babs who was objecting agitatedly.
‘Oh, you don’t want to move out, Fee, and how will you cope? You’ve never lived alone before, even in Australia.’
‘Then don’t you think it’s time I did?’ Fee prompted gently. ‘But I was thinking of looking for something around Repulse Bay, so I won’t be far away, Babs. Only I don’t need Simon’s—’
There were phones all over the house and even one out here on the bar counter, and she stopped, jumping as it rang, nervous of the things since Australia. Babs answered it, giving the Sandilands name and number.
‘No…Yes, I’ll call her.’ She held the receiver out to Fee. ‘For you, Fee.’
Feel slid off her stool a little awkwardly and took the receiver apprehensively. She was being silly. This was Hong Kong and it would be Warren or another of her old friends, since she didn’t suppose she would be hearing from Miss Sung-Li until the morning.
‘Fee,’ she identified herself quietly and drew a sharp breath as she recognised the distinctive characteristics of an international call, that slight hum and the unnaturally long pause.
‘Now look, I’ve had enough of this nonsense of yours. You had no right to pull out like that. I want you back here…’
Fee had gone pale, her eyes closing, and when she opened them again they looked like twin bruises against the pallor of her face. How had he found her here?
The angry demands continued, burning into her ear as she tried to focus on something—anything—while she wondered desperately how she could stop him once and for all. She was so tired of hearing that voice, so tired of being reminded!
Simon’s tanned face swam before her; then her vision cleared and she saw the dawning realisation in his eyes.
‘Put it down, Fee. Put it down,’ he repeated urgently, but she was paralysed, the receiver seemingly glued into her hand as she stared at him.
He came to her then, prising the receiver out of her convulsive grip, his other hand dropping to her shoulder and pushing her gently away so that she could no longer hear any actual words although that bullying voice still went on and on.
Simon hesitated only a second before putting the receiver to his own ear, his fingers tightening over Fee’s shoulder as he did so. She saw his mouth compress, rage blazing in his eyes, but he only listened a moment or two before speaking.
‘Sheldon, I presume? My name is Rhodes. Miss Garland has already answered you very clearly by leaving Australia, I think, so this is pointless and constitutes harassment. That’s the only warning you’ll get.’
Then he put the receiver down.
Fee swayed, held by a despairing weariness as she realised that as long as Vance Sheldon refused to accept defeat she wasn’t going to be allowed to forget what had happened.
‘She’s going to faint,’ she heard Babs warning above Charles’s colourful cursing, and she was dimly conscious of Simon supporting her as she sagged, and telling Babs to pull up one of the low seats from the other side of the patio.
‘No, I’m not,’ she insisted furiously, recovering slightly.
But Simon and Babs were pushing her down on to the seat, Babs clutching at her.
‘She has to put her head between her knees, I think.’ Babs sounded as panicky as she had when they were little and some disaster had befallen one or other of them during one of Angela’s absences and she would be paging frantically through the emergency first-aid book they had used some of their intermittent pocket-money to order from a local newspaper. ‘It’s all my fault! What did that man want? I should never have let her go to Australia. She’s only a baby!’
‘Stop being ridiculous, Barbara,’ Simon snapped. ‘And stop strangling her. Then she might be all right.’
‘I am.’ Fee raised her head, trying hard to pretend as she always had done, for Babs’s sake. ‘Sorry, I just thought…I thought I’d be safe here.’
‘You are,’ Simon and Babs spoke in unison and Simon added, ‘Quite safe, Fee. Charles? What was she drinking?’
‘Coke.’
‘Brandy,’ Simon ordered succinctly.
‘I’ll spill it over you,’ Fee gasped, striving to produce a laugh. ‘I don’t need it. Dammit, Simon—all of you—leave me alone!’
But, to her shame, sh
e was aware of tears filling her eyes and she ducked her head hastily so that they wouldn’t see, but it was too late. Typically, Babs immediately shared her distress, while Charles was vowing to hunt Vance Sheldon down and wring his neck. Then, to her relief, Simon took charge.
CHAPTER FOUR
‘GO AWAY, Simon. She won’t want to see you now. Don’t you realise how upset she is after that phone call? Fee is very sensitive.’
Guarding the door to the bedroom, Babs sounded more drunk than Fee felt, which seemed all wrong because Babs was accustomed to sipping a fair quantity of spirits in the evenings, whereas Fee seldom drank anything stronger than wine. The fact that they were both at least tipsy now could be blamed on Simon, as he had sent them upstairs with a whole bottle of brandy.
Guilt gnawed at Fee as she identified the mood Babs was in. She had experienced it so often in the past—the protectiveness that made her love Babs all the more but which simultaneously exasperated.
‘She’s over-sensitive, and you make her that way,’ she heard Simon retort. ‘She wouldn’t be nearly so upset if you hadn’t put on such a melodramatic performance of your own. We’re talking about a woman who has been around and is accustomed to taking care of herself, remember, but if you’re stupid enough to try to cosset her it’s natural that she’s going to give in and let you—let herself be weak.’
His perspicacity was alarming to Fee, but she raised her voice, calling to Babs with reluctant honesty, ‘He’s right, Babs. I’m twenty-two. I have to fight my own battles even if I lose them. Let him in.’
There was a brief silence before Simon entered her bedroom. He had still been in the suit he had worn earlier in the day when he arrived, but he had discarded both jacket and tie by now.
‘Battles, Fee?’ he challenged in a softly mocking tone, eyes gleaming with enjoyment. ‘Are we going to fight, then?’
‘Probably,’ Fee snapped, rising from the edge of the bed on which she had been sitting. ‘I suppose you’re expecting me to thank you for dealing with that phone call, but I could have handled it myself quite well. You’ve got a nerve, you know, talking to Babs like that, criticising the way she treats me when you’ve just been guilty of the same sort of thing, taking the phone away from me, sending me upstairs with a bottle of brandy—’
Simon held up a pacifying hand.
‘You went, didn’t you? All right, all right, calm down,’ he advised her sardonically. ‘Your reaction caused me to leap to the erroneous conclusion that you were the victim of an obscene call, something not even the toughest of women finds easy to shrug off, but obviously you were just treating us to a glimpse of the old Fee—naturally enough, I suppose, because no one’s personality ever changes completely—and the call was in fact a plea, if somewhat aggressive. The guy wants you back.’
‘In my job,’ Fee asserted tautly, sitting down again because the brandy seemed to have impaired her legs’ ability to support her. ‘He never had me in any other way.’
‘No, clearly your heart wasn’t involved there since you’ve told me love didn’t come into it. What was it, then, sex or his ability to give you a good time materially and socially?’ Instead of taking the chair next to the window or the dressing-table stool, Simon sat down beside her, turning towards her in order to see her face, which was still pale, before continuing musingly, ‘No, not the latter because you’re not that sort of person. You’ve never been a raver. Sex, then. Well, he’s supposed to be a personable man if somewhat long in the tooth…But what the hell did you do to him? He must be crazy about you if he’s willing to make a fool of himself like that, begging you to come back. Absolutely smitten!’
Fee gave him a quick resentful look and averted her face.
‘No, he just doesn’t like being thwarted,’ she corrected, a trace of bitterness seeping through her artificial composure.
‘Is that a streak of sadism manifesting itself there, or are you only just discovering your power as a woman now? In which case I imagine you can’t resist experimenting with it, testing its range and capacity so to speak.’ Simon was idly taunting, holding her eyes and smiling as he observed her angry reaction. ‘No, I don’t think you’re really a cruel person. It’s obvious you have some grievance against the man, but why did you choose to punish him so publicly? Was he refusing to leave his wife for you or something? But from the way he was carrying on tonight, demanding your return like that, you can hardly see yourself as a woman scorned, darling.’
The cynical assumptions he was making about her raised her anger to the level of defiant rage.
‘You’re not in a position to know what you’re talking about,’ she derided blisteringly. ‘But it’s none of your business anyway, and I’m not going to pander to your sense of your own importance by telling you what really happened. You’d never understand if I did, as it is.’
As she said it, it occurred to her somewhat disconcertingly that she didn’t actually want him to understand, because if he did he would also understand the pathetically short distance she had travelled from the gauche teenager he had once been able to reduce to a blushing, stammering emotional mess of resentment and embarrassment. Inwardly she felt terrifyingly like that girl still, but somehow it had become vitally important that she shouldn’t reveal any vulnerability to Simon Rhodes.
‘I’m not sure I want to, although I can guess quite easily,’ he claimed in a confident murmur, utterly unperturbed by her furious rejection. ‘These old men often get possessive, sometimes obsessively so, once they break out and find themselves a sweet young thing. If it was the first time he’d strayed, it would make it even worse; he’d be frantic about the loss of his trophy…I think you’re realising that, aren’t you? But boys like Bates aren’t the answer for someone like you either.’
‘I’m not looking for answers—by which I suppose you really mean lovers,’ Fee guessed, treating him to a deliberate, sharp-sweet smile. ‘I suppose this preoccupation with age is because I implied you were old earlier today. In fact, I just wanted to annoy you.’
‘That did occur to me. No, I’m not in my dotage yet. On the contrary, I consider myself to be the perfect age,’ he informed her complacently.
‘For what?’ she retorted, and wished she hadn’t when the gleam in his eyes grew more pronounced.
‘For you?’ Simon suggested.
‘You may think so.’ Her tone was stinging. ‘You would! But I don’t.’
‘You know I’m right really.’ Infuriatingly, the arrogance came accompanied by such charm of voice and warmth of smile that Fee felt a precariously yielding sensation somewhere within her. ‘That’s why you’re making such a major production of denying it. For all your experience, I think you’re still essentially a gentle creature. What you need is a man’s strength, not the weakness I suspect is integral to a youth like Bates.’
‘A man’s strength—to lean on?’ Fee was scathing, her eyes sparkling with contempt.
‘When necessary, when you want to,’ Simon agreed easily. ‘But also the strength that allows you to be yourself as opposed to the tyranny that oppresses, which is what Sheldon seems to have been trying to do to you.’
‘Your strength, of course?’
Belatedly she wondered if it was wise to be challenging him so directly, but as always he seemed to be calling to her fighting spirit and she couldn’t stop herself answering the summons.
‘Quite possibly. Why not?’ he prompted with lazy humour.
‘And what about Loren Kincaid?’
‘I’m dealing with her…subtly,’ he added softly.
‘Deviously,’ Fee guessed scornfully.
He shrugged, undisturbed. ‘Since the direct way I dealt with Ismay Compton a few years ago put you in such a paddy, I thought you might look more favourably on a fine Italian hand this time around.’
‘The brutal way,’ Fee corrected him with a faint inward shiver at the thought of the intellectual rings this clever man could run round everyone if ever he seriously chose to go in for real de
viousness.
‘Either way, don’t let it bother you.’ Simon was insouciantly dismissive. ‘It’s my responsibility, not yours.’
He really was outrageous. Fee shook her head. Of course it would bother her. She had liked Loren—
Oh, God, she was actually starting to believe in all this nonsense of his.
She regarded Simon warily and he looked back at her, the gathering warmth in his eyes bringing a slow flush to her face which deepened as he gave her an indolent yet openly seductive smile.
‘I’m not sure I believe any of this,’ she commented slowly, achieving a coolly amused little smile.
Simon laughed softly. He was still turned towards her and he lifted a hand to touch her face lightly, a long finger tracing the curve of her cheek.
‘You must know just how desirable you are, sweetheart,’ he was drawling, giving her another lazy smile as his arm slid round her shoulders. ‘And you haven’t got any complicated hang-ups about desire, have you? In fact, I’ve an idea you’re a very simple, giving person, and that you’ll prove to be incredibly generous.’
‘Generous? To you, Simon?’ she managed sceptically, but at the same time there was a little catch in her voice as she found herself drawn fully into the curve of his arm, the hand on her shoulder sliding down over her upper arm while she felt the fingers of his other hand nudge gently from below at the delicate line of her jaw.
‘Again, why not?’ Simon murmured confidently, his breath stirring the dark curls that tumbled over her brow. ‘In time, Fee, in time.’
A tiny sigh escaped her as he cradled her body close against his. It was so tempting to surrender to the shelter his embrace seemed to offer. Not that she was attracted to him, of course, but the world had seemed such an abrasive place just lately and Simon was so sure and strong and warm, a confident man whom nothing could seriously trouble, capable of dealing with any situation.