Trust Too Much

by Jayne Bauling

  The longing was causing a tight, hurting sensation in her breast. Her eyes closed, long lashes casting shadows over her pale cheeks, and she found her parted lips touching the firmness of Simon’s.

  ‘It’s all right,’ he reassured her easily as she drew back in embarrassment. ‘Don’t stop there…You taste of brandy.’

  Not surprisingly, Fee reflected, wondering if she was seriously drunk as she opened her eyes again to focus on the sensual, masculine curve of the mouth hers had sought so involuntarily.

  ‘Simon, I don’t think…’

  ‘No, don’t think for a minute or two,’ he urged, sounding amused.

  This time it was his lips that found hers and Fee shivered, oddly distraite for a moment before accepting the kiss and—oh, admittedly!—responding to it. His mouth was so warm; it moved on hers and in it with such tender eroticism, and she drew him further in, helplessly awash with sensation. One hand lay curled against his chest and she could feel the healthy, powerful beat of his heart beneath her fingers.

  ‘Nice?’ Simon questioned her languidly, letting his hand drop to rest lightly over one slight, cotton-covered breast.

  A shuddery sigh escaped Fee as her mouth returned to his. This time his kiss was deeper, more masterful and almost possessive, and Fee felt her trembling body growing hot and restless. Long fingers stirred gently against her breast, setting up tremors of desire that went thrilling through her entire being.

  ‘Oh, very nice,’ Simon confirmed teasingly, his hand dropping confidently to her lap, turning the tremors to an ongoing quake.

  Fee had lifted her hand to the powerful golden column of his throat, fingers exploring wonderingly. He was a golden man altogether, and she had never touched anyone so beautiful before.

  ‘I hardly think nice is the word.’ Her voice had a break in it, making her sound languidly sensual, on the verge of surrender.

  Oh, God, what was she doing and saying? No wonder Simon was looking at her with such idle satisfaction. Quite unmistakable, it lit his eyes and curved his mouth.

  ‘No, just nice for now,’ he insisted softly. ‘The rest comes later and I promise you it will be worthy of all the superlatives we can think of.’

  ‘You’re seducing me while I’m drunk,’ Fee complained, finally finding the strength of will to lower her hand and remove his from its intimate resting place.

  ‘No, not seducing you, not tonight. Just tempting you with a taste of delight to come,’ he corrected her wickedly, finally freeing her. ‘And never here, dear Fee. Not in this house, with your stepsister liable to come rushing in to rescue her darling from my evil clutches. The sooner you move into a place of your own, the better. I’ve left that list of apartments to view downstairs, incidentally.’

  Fee stared at him, not yet fully liberated from the spell he had woven about her, the sweet, enveloping golden magic of desire.

  Then, with an effort, she freed herself.

  ‘Just stop trying to organise my life for me, Simon,’ she instructed him tightly.

  ‘Don’t be so touchy.’ He stood up, smiling down at her. ‘Helping someone out when it’s no trouble is a natural part of ordinary, normal social commerce, not an attempt to take over, and you’ve said you need somewhere of your own…Unless you’d like to move into my place if and when we start a proper affair? I’m still in that house on the Peak and I think you ought to be happy there.’

  His tone had grown wickedly suggestive again and Fee couldn’t control a blush, just praying that he would mistake it for the flush of anger.

  ‘You’re assuming a lot, aren’t you? What makes you think I’d be happy to have an affair with you in the first place?’

  Fully recovered now and hating herself for whatever it was that had made her so weak and willing in his arms, Fee too was on her feet.

  ‘The way you’ve just been kissing me, for one thing,’ Simon returned incorrigibly.

  ‘And what about Loren Kincaid?’ she demanded once more, infuriated by his flippancy. ‘Does she move out before or after I’ve moved in?’

  ‘I haven’t had her living there. She has a nice place of her own, and I’ve generally preferred to make separate establishments the rule; it makes splitting up easier and parting less painful when there’s no packing to be done; but I’d be prepared to make a rare exception in your case.’

  ‘You are unbelievable,’ Fee blazed at him, the colour in her cheeks no longer anything to do with embarrassment. ‘Get this, Simon, there’s no way I want to be part of your complicated love life, now or ever. I don’t know how you do it without giving yourself an ulcer. It’s incredible! You’re juggling with Loren and me—as you seem to think!’

  ‘Wrong, darling. Loren is about to become part of my past.’ Simon was remorseless and compassion for Loren wrenched at Fee’s heart.

  ‘And next it will be my turn? No, thanks, Simon, I don’t even like you, but even if I did, I don’t hate myself that much,’ she averred stormily. ‘I’ve seen what you do to women, I’ve seen it all before. I’ve been watching it since I was a child. They all end up crying.’

  ‘But not you.’ Simon was completely unmoved and still devastatingly sure of himself and of her. ‘You know what I’m like, better than most, just because you have been watching me for so long, as you say, so you won’t have any illusions to be shattered, and nor will you make the mistake of thinking you can change me.’

  Fee was enraged, but somehow she managed to control herself, dropping her voice to a sweetly taunting note. ‘But they nearly all go into the affairs like that, knowing there’s a time limit, don’t they, Simon? And still it ends in tears. I said no, thanks! You break hearts.’

  ‘People let their hearts be broken,’ he contradicted her mildly. ‘But the whole business is largely imaginary, born of a pandemic tendency to dramatise the end of a relationship. I’ve never understood it personally, when endings are as natural as beginnings, and inevitable—because love and attraction are natural things and everything natural in this world has its allotted life-span. We’re taught from our earliest years that death is an intrinsic part of nature, after all. But I’d better get out of here, because that bed is tempting me to hasten your acceptance quite considerably.’

  ‘Acceptance?’ she echoed tartly, although she was struggling with the strange rage of the wounded in response to this confirmation of his ingrained cynicism.

  ‘Decision, then,’ he amended equably.

  ‘My decision is already made, Simon,’ Fee advised him pointedly.

  ‘There in your heart, since you’re into the concept,’ he agreed, touching her lightly just below the left breast, and she flinched away from him.

  ‘Only I never even considered the alternative,’ she supplemented sharply.

  ‘Your head will catch up with your heart,’ he assured her, his smile scintillating. ‘I’m looking forward to having you around the office—being able to witness the process, getting to know you better, watching you getting to know me.’

  ‘I haven’t said I’m taking the job yet,’ Fee flared, her chin lifting rebelliously. ‘I won’t be rushed.’

  ‘No, and I’ll never try to rush you, Fee—in any way,’ Simon added meaningfully, his charm outrageously evident just then. ‘That‘s one advantage to all this—the fact that we do already know each other fairly well, so there will be fewer adjustments than usual to be made on both sides. For instance, I know you too well to imagine that an attempt to sweep you off your feet, or pressure you, wouldn’t rebound against me. You react negatively to that sort of thing, don’t you, and particularly right now when you’re so ferociously into autonomy, determined to make your own decisions? I suppose all this rather desperate independence is your response to life with Sheldon, if he tried to do your thinking for you, which it sounds like. That reminds me! This isn’t the first time he has contacted you like that, is it? If you want to spare yourself his particular brand of bullying in future, I suggest you always let one of the others answer the phone while yo
u remain here, and don’t pick it up if it rings when you’re on your own.’

  ‘I’d already thought of that for myself.’

  Because nothing else she had so far come up with had succeeded in deterring the man.

  Fee’s expression was closed, concealing the inner desperation that accompanied the reflection, and Simon surveyed her pensively for a moment.

  ‘Don’t worry, sweetheart. You really are quite safe here. I’ll be seeing you.’

  The strange thing was that she really did feel better—safer—now that Simon knew about the calls, she realised when he had gone.

  It was because he was so dynamically able, she decided. You couldn’t imagine anyone, even a man as powerful as Vance Sheldon was, getting away with anything Simon didn’t want him to do. Even if he tried, Simon would find a way of stopping him—or so it had seemed, but the conviction was beginning to fade now that he had gone, because she knew perfectly well that he would never really put himself to any trouble on another’s behalf.

  It seemed incredible that a man like Simon should be interested in her as a woman, that he should find her attractive, but she had to accept it. Twice today, he had kissed her so—

  Fee couldn’t think of an appropriate word. The skill, the expertise for which he was famed, had been there, but it had also been so nice—his word—she decided, falling back on the prosaic.

  She knew his interest wouldn’t last. At present, she was a novelty; he was contrasting her with the teenager he had known, but he would soon start looking at her with more cynical eyes and discover that she lacked both the physical attributes and the personality of the women who usually attracted him. He was probably going through a phase when his romantic and sexual appetite was jaded, and the first truly stunning woman who crossed his path was sure to revive it, but in the meantime he was turning to the unusual and the idiosyncratic in the hope of finding stimulation and distraction.

  The thought of her response to Simon made her squirm, however, as there was simply no acceptable explanation. There had so seldom been a need privately to rationalise or justify any of her behaviour in the past that she lacked the knack, completely at a loss. Of course, she had never been oblivious to his physical perfection, nor his outward charm, she admitted, so perhaps it had been mere curiosity.

  Curiosity. It was the best she could come up with. She had wanted to know what all those other women had felt—except that she could never feel exactly as they had because she had seen too many of them, seen them suffer, and she knew Simon too well to be in any danger of falling in love with him herself.

  Thus she reflected that she could probably quite safely risk accepting the job at Rhodes Properties, even if he persisted in viewing her as the next woman in his life, as he had so casually phrased it. At least he would never be devious about his interest in the way that Vance Sheldon had been.

  She could trust him, and as for trusting herself—Fee finally decided that she could. She wasn’t conceited or complacent, but neither was she stupid or self-destructive. Simon was a devastatingly attractive man, magnificently male, and she had responded physically to the fact, but she knew herself to be the opposite of promiscuous, although she had learnt to conceal the private idealism that shaped her—no heroic voice of innocence, she—shrinking sensitively from the contempt in which so many people seemed to hold her conviction that attraction and love ought to be inseparable. She had never judged those who differed from her, but in the secrecy of her heart she was convinced that sex divorced from love had to be horrifying and degrading, a tawdry sham that mocked what it imitated.

  A little later, discovering she was hungry, Fee slipped downstairs and helped herself to some of the risotto she found being kept warm. Leaving the kitchen again, she was aware of a draught of fresh air coming from somewhere, cool and clean after the rain, and she paused, looking into the lounge as a lazy murmur of masculine voices came to her.

  The lounge itself was in darkness, although the doors to the patio stood open and a light was on out there. There was no sign of Babs, but she could see Simon and Charles, each with a glass in his hand, and one of them must just have cracked a joke because they were both laughing, and it was the sort of laughter in which men seldom indulged when women were present.

  Fee shook her head and retreated quietly, wanting to feel disgusted but finding herself more inclined to be amused. They were probably intent on getting drunk together in the way that men periodically set out to do, for no apparent good reason save that they felt like it.

  She didn’t understand men and their rituals. Sometimes they seemed like an alien species altogether, instead of the other half of her own kind, but she imagined that women with more experience than she herself possessed had developed some sort of sketchy understanding of their strange ways.

  If he wasn’t working or seeing Loren Kincaid tonight, she supposed Simon might simply have been reluctant to go home too early. Even someone as insensitive as he was must occasionally dread the prospect of solitude, and, despite possessing the sort of super-intelligence which often voluntarily chose isolation in preference to intellectually inferior company, Simon was a sociable man. He liked people even if they did all bore him eventually, clever and stupid alike.

  He would revert to finding her boring, and sooner rather than later, Fee hoped. His interest was just too disturbing.

  By the time Miss Sung-Li contacted her with a formal offer of the position as Simon’s personal assistant, Fee had made up her mind.

  She listened to the older woman outlining the terms of the standard Rhodes Properties contract, which she realised was admirable, as binding on them as employers as it would be on her, safeguarding both parties, while the list of benefits she would enjoy as an employee was impressive.

  But the safeguards she required couldn’t be written into an agreement. If it were only the job, she would have accepted without even hearing Miss Sung-Li out, but there was Simon himself to be taken into consideration. She had no illusions about his difficult nature and lacerating tongue, but she wasn’t quite as sensitive as she had been four years ago when his anger or impatience could virtually destroy her.

  It was his new attitude towards her that kept her silent, trying to find the courage to say what she needed to. She didn’t like Simon, and she had her own dreams and desires, immensely different from his, but she did find him disturbing. He was attractive, he could be charming and amusing at times, and when he had kissed her she had been prey to that terrible, vulnerable, melting sensation. That was what she didn’t want to have to feel again.

  Fee bit her lip, experiencing a slight surge of resentment, because why should she have to be hesitating about accepting a definitely alluring position just because Simon currently had some whim about her?

  It was this reflection that finally made her brave enough to say, ‘I know this is an unusual request, Miss Sung-Li, but before I definitely accept the job I want to interview Mr Rhodes.’

  There was a substantial pause before Miss Sung-Li said slowly, ‘It’s more than unusual, it’s unprecedented, Miss Garland, but I have to assume that you’re sufficiently well acquainted with Mr Rhodes to be confident that he’ll find it acceptable. We’ll make a provisional appointment and I’ll get back to you and confirm it when I’ve obtained his approval.’

  As she replaced the receiver, Fee was smiling slightly, partly with relief but also because she was realising that the confidence in her own judgement, which had deserted her on realising how wrong she had been about Vance Sheldon, must be beginning to reassert itself. Her courage too, she thought, feeling happier than she had done in weeks.

  Perhaps she could cope with Simon.

  Nevertheless, she was tense and a little nervous as Miss Sung-Li herself escorted her up to Simon’s suite of offices the following morning, but she thought that was natural enough in the circumstances.

  Then a wave of sympathy temporarily washed everything else away as they entered the outer office and she saw Maynah Norm
an at the desk which would become hers if she accepted the job. Whatever the outcome of this interview, at least she wouldn’t end up like Maynah.

  When the blonde girl announced their presence to Simon, the door of his office was flung open almost immediately.

  ‘Fee! Thank you, Miss Sung-Li,’ he added with his most blazing smile.

  Fee’s heart and pulses had jumped as he appeared and she was aware of the inevitable effect of his presence. She felt alive, alert, perceptions and senses heightened, as if he reached out and shared his vitality with her.

  ‘Thank you.’ She smiled at Miss Sung-Li who inclined her head and departed.

  Simon seemed to be in a good mood and he stood looking at Fee for a moment, warm blue eyes sweeping over her face and her simple outfit of a slim white skirt worn beneath a soft dark pink collarless jacket with three-quarter sleeves and pretty vertical pleat detail at the front.

  ‘Come through,’ he invited her, closing the door when they were in the office. ‘How are you? Sit down. Miss Sung-Li says you want to interview me, which is quite a novelty. What can I tell you? What do you want to know?’

  He was so vibrant with energy and he spoke so fast that Fee felt slightly breathless as she took one of the chairs in front of his desk, which she had recognised as a valuable piece of furniture despite its simplicity.

  ‘I don’t so much want information as to…’ She hesitated as he sat down opposite her.

  ‘To lay down some rules?’ he suggested mockingly, his quick mind characteristically leaping ahead.

  ‘Something like that,’ she acknowledged drily, and a gleam appeared in his eyes. ‘The details don’t concern you but, you see, I didn’t particularly like the way things ended up with Mr Sheldon—’

  ‘Yes, I’d say you made a mistake there,’ Simon inserted arrogantly.

  ‘—and since now you’ve chosen to imagine that there’s something personal between us—’

  ‘It’s hardly my imagination, darling,’ Simon drawled with indolent good humour, but then his expression hardened. ‘I’m not Sheldon, Fee, if that’s the reassurance you’re looking for…Has he tried to phone you again, by the way?’