'And if I don't?' Two wings of red temper showed on Miles's cheeks. He was a brute and bully called to heel, thrashing about verbally when physically he dared not move.
'If you don't?' Ross gave a harsh laugh. 'That would be suicidal. Maclean's would back your competitors, your suppliers would be warned not to supply you and would be well rewarded for obedience. You've collected quite a few brains around you, people with talent. There are plenty of divisions in my firm to absorb them. We're always looking for new talent.'
'You've had me investigated!' Miles took a thoughtless step forward but Ross didn't even move. There was only the deceptively soft sound of his voice.
'Don't even think of it,' he warned. 'As to having you investigated, it took very little effort, merely a few phone calls. You're small fry. Harass my wife again however and I'll wipe you out.'
For a moment Miles stared at Ross, wanting to bluster, to threaten, but he saw defeat staring at him with icy eyes. 'You're welcome to the kid, and to your wife,' he snarled. 'It's warmer out here than it is with her. You must know her by now. She's a frigid little bitch.'
Helen shuddered and felt an arm like iron lash around her.
'One week,' Ross said with deadly quiet. 'Seven clear days and then I come after you with all the weight of the company behind me.'
'It would be different if you didn't have all your millions,' Miles blurted, his face now suffused with ugly colour.
'It would,' Ross assured him softly. 'I'd kill you now. Get off my property while you're still able to move.' He pulled Helen back and closed the door and she felt the force of his anger pulsating through the air. He simply moved away, going back to his study, and after a minute she followed.
He was packing his briefcase, his face stony, cold, his whole being unapproachable.
'You...you never told me you'd found out things about Miles.'
'You wanted to know?' His tone was quiet but acidly disparaging and he, didn't bother to look up.
'It's lucky you were here.' It was a lame sort of way to thank him but he didn't look as if he would take kindly to any gushing words.
'Not luck at all,' he said flatly. 'I've had a tail on him for weeks.'
'B...before we were married?' Amazement showed on her face and he glanced across at her, a cool smile twisting his lips.
'Since our trip to Paris. I had a feeling he wouldn't just lie down for very long. After the French fiasco, I felt I owed him one.'
Helen just stared at him hopelessly and he ignored her. He snapped his case closed and picked up his jacket.
'Now I can get to work. I'll be late tonight. Don't keep dinner waiting for me. I have a date.'
She didn't, need to be told who it was with.
'Thank you for being here, for protecting me, all of us,' she managed quietly and he stopped on his way out to look at her with taunting grey eyes.
'I wouldn't be much use if I couldn't protect you, would I? It's the whole point of this marriage, after all. I'm a refuge and you're a front. I think it suits us both.'
She watched him leave, saying nothing more because what was there to say? He was a refuge and he never let her down. It was a very perilous refuge, though, now that her longing to be in his arms had taken away her cold wall of safety. Loving him was strictly outside the bargain and so unexpected that she trembled whenever she thought about it.
When the threat of Miles was finally over she would have to think out her life all over again, because living close to Ross would one day prove to be too much and there was nothing she could do about her inner terror. In any case, there was Donna and there would always be Donna.
He did not come home. Helen went to bed when Tina went. She had put on a very good act. Ross had work piled sky-high, he would work until late and probably eat out. Tina accepted it; she was already studying hard for the next term that would begin the following week. It was Tansy who almost broke Helen's precarious cover of calm.
On her way to bed she turned and looked pitifully at Helen. 'Where's Daddy tonight?'
Helen just stared and then quickly picked her up and took her off to bed. 'He's working late, darling. You'll see him tomorrow.'
She tackled Tina when Tansy was safely tucked up.
'Did you tell Tansy to call Ross "Daddy"?' She was quite prepared to be furious but Tina looked at her askance.
'Give me credit for some sense, chief. When Ross wants to be called that he'll say so.'
'Then why ... ?'
'No great mystery. Mrs Hill thinks Ross is Tansy's father and nobody has disillusioned her. She chatters on all day to Tansy. It's obvious.'
'I...I never thought of it.' Helen looked dazed wondering how Ross would take it when Tansy finally came out with the word in front of him. It seemed inevitable.
'Well, you've got it now and about time too,' Tina muttered, going to her own room. 'Smart kid, that,' she observed from the doorway. 'Wonder where she got her brains from? We know it can't be from Pig.'
Helen was too shattered to reply. She had never envisaged this sort of thing. She had come into this marriage imagining she could maintain her shell and now it was all stripped away. She was in love with Ross and Tansy wanted her daddy. It was a tangle that would never be unravelled.
She lay in the darkness and listened for Ross until she imagined sounds all over the house. At midnight he was still not home and she gave up then, turning her head into a pillow that was already damp with tears. He was staying all night with Donna. It was only to be expected.
The cruel hands were hurting, digging into her, bruising her skin, and she was fighting, trying not to scream. If she screamed, Tina would hear and come. He would hit Tina too.
'No! No! Let me go!' She gasped out the words, her legs kicking out. She tried to free her trapped hands but it only enraged him more, his weight becoming unbearable, making her panic further, suffocating her.
'No!' When she raised her voice, he lashed out at her, cutting into her arm, and she screamed with the sharp burst of pain, thrashing about wildly as he gripped her tightly.
'Helen! Helen! Wake up!'
It was like struggling from a deep cave of blackness and terror, the sudden voice bringing more fear, her struggles still fierce and unthinking. Her eyes refused to open and then she was being shaken.
'Helen! Open your eyes. Wake up!'
She managed it then, dragging herself back from the darkness, the light blinding her, everything swimming with the tears that streamed down her white face. 'Ross?' She looked at him in bewilderment, blinking her wild eyes but unable to stop the steady flow of tears. The communicating door was wide open right back to the wall and Ross was sitting beside her, his hands on her arms tight and burning.
'You were having a nightmare. I heard you struggling and muttering and I was halfway in here before that horrifying scream.' He let her go and ran his hand through the thick darkness of his hair. 'I thought you were being raped!'
She bit down on her lips to stop the tears, thankful he wasn't looking at her. 'I...I was dreaming.'
'That's a grave understatement.' He looked at her wryly and she began to focus properly. He was in a dark silk dressing-gown, his feet bare, and his hair looked curiously ruffled as if he had been running his hands through it for hours. It was the first time she had seen him undressed and she looked away quickly, avoiding his vividly grey eyes.
'If you're all right, I'll go.' His voice was back to coldness as he stood up, preparing to leave her alone. 'Would you like a drink?'
'Yes. I...I'm going to get up and have a cup of tea. I have to walk about and...and .. .'
'Get your act together? Where's your robe?' He spotted it on a chair and reached for it. 'Come on. After that I think I need something too, a mite stronger than tea. I'll go down with you.'
He stood waiting and she had to get out of bed to slip into her robe. She turned as he held it out for her. She was still shaking and dazed from her nightmare, too grateful for his presence to feel any qualms, and the fact t
hat her nightie was all but transparent, the straps little more than ribbons, didn't seem to penetrate her mind.
'What's this?' Ross stopped with her robe only halfway on to her shoulders, his finger tracing the small deep scar that ran along the top of her arm. Such had been the power of the dream that Helen winced as if she still felt the pain. 'It looks healed. Does it hurt?'
'No. Of...of course not. It's old.'
'Then why did you wince like that?'
He turned her round when she made no answer, his eyes intently on her.
'Was that part of the dream? Did Gilford do that?' Helen hung her head, struggling into her robe, tying it tightly around her tiny waist, she could not meet his eyes, grey and probing.
'Helen?'
The tone told her he was not about to be fobbed off with anything less than the truth, and she took a shaky breath.
'It was a ring. He has a ring on his right hand, a flashy sort of thing with stones. It's a very elaborate setting, quite sharp.'
'And?' His hands had come back to her shoulders, tightening when she stopped explaining.
'The ring caught me. I..I expect it was an accident.'
'An accident?' He tilted her face and she had to look at the white fury on his. 'He was hitting you. That's what the nightmare was about. What did he use, the back of his hand or his fist?'
'His fist,' she whispered, the shaking beginning again as she relived her dream and the whole nightmare of the past reality. 'I only screamed when the ring hurt so much because...because Tina would have come, you see, and he might have ...' Tears began to stream down her face again and he pulled her tightly into his arms.
'Why didn't I kill the bastard when I had him here this morning?' he grated. 'I'll find him and...!'
'No! No, Ross, please!' She was so shaken by her revelations and by his fury that she clutched him without thought, her arms tightening around his waist as he held her close. 'It was a long time ago. I just want safety for Tansy. I don't want to even think about Miles.'
She buried her face against his chest, her tears flooding freely, but he lifted her chin, his other arm holding her fast.
'But you do think about him! He even sneaks into your dreams, frightening you, torturing you. Do you think I'm letting him get away with it?'
'Please, Ross!' She looked up at him with unhappy blue eyes, her lashes starred with tears, and he frowned down at her, his clear grey eyes filled with frustration.
'You leave me helpless, you know that? I can't act as I wish, protect you as I wish because none of this is real. I may be legally married to you but I've left you with the right to call all the tunes, even when it's with Gilford. For heaven's sake, Helen! I wouldn't do that with any other woman!' His mouth came back to hers, nipping and caressing until she felt faint with excitement.
'I can't let you go, not this time. I want you, Helen. I want you too badly to let you go!' The words were breathed into her mouth and the old fear rose but her body was pressed to his, his taut thighs moving against her, and when his hand slid down her back to mould her to his throbbing desire, fear flew away, her body unaware of her mind's warning. All she knew now was the feeling he generated inside her, this aching to be submerged in him.
She moved her hips against his, her breathing a pleading gasp, and his hands stripped off her robe with feverish need, his lips fused with hers. Cool air washed over her heated skin as the nightie was pushed from her shoulders to slide unchecked to the floor. Far from frightening her it brought her back to him with a rush of emotion, her arms clinging tightly.
'Helen! You're so soft ... so beautiful ... I've wanted to touch you for such a very long time, to hold you like this.' His tongue teased her lips and then moved into her mouth, searching the sweetness urgently. His hand found her breast, his fingers caressing the hard nipple until she shook in his arms, gasping with need.
She was completely out of control, mindless with the delight of his touch, a trembling, yearning creature his arms had to subdue, her breath gasping in her throat, muffled little cries escaping to drive him to the end of endurance.
'Yes, darling, yes. It's all right.'
His voice was thickened beyond recognition and even when he lifted her and placed her on the bed she clung to him, overwhelmed, captivated, her body fretful to be close as he eased fractionally away to shrug out of his robe.
Helen could only look at him, her cheeks glittering with tears, and he glared down at her before murmuring. frustratedly, cupping her head tightly and covering her mouth with his.
It was no gentle kiss. Every bit of his anger and frustration was in it, bringing a cruelty to his mouth that had not been there when he had kissed her before. Even so, it brought a feeling of calm, a feeling of belonging, his touch driving the nightmare far away, right out of her mind. Instantly aroused, she melted, moving closer, and her movement seemed to bring him to his senses.
His dark head lifted and he eased her away, not releasing her but giving her the opportunity to move from him.
'I'm sorry, Helen. I'm sorry,' he muttered hoarsely. 'Heaven only knows you've suffered enough brutality without any more.' He looked at her ruefully but she stared back entranced, her lips softened and swollen, her eyes closing as she swayed right into his arms.
'Helen?' He caught her closer and whispered her name. 'Helen?'
She couldn't speak at all. She was even afraid of her own actions but her fingers tightened on his robe, clutching him closer, accepting his kiss hungrily when he took her lips.
In seconds they were utterly lost to the world, seeking each other greedily, Helen kissing him back as wildly as she could, clutching him to her with all her strength, her arms wrapped around his neck as he arched her back, his lips trailing over her throat, nuzzling the rounded swell of her breasts above the lacy-topped satin of her nightie. He was taking in the scent of her, his breathing heavy and erratic, his body alert, attuned to each small sound she made, each little moan of pleasure.
'I'm not leaving you, Helen. I'm not leaving you,' he whispered hoarsely. His arms enclosed her again, gripping her tightly. 'Come here to me.'
She was torn between two worlds, her body craving his, moving of its own volition back to him, shuddering at the feel of his skin against hers. But her mind fought, stiffened, warned her. She couldn't do this. She was frozen, incapable, frigid. A sob welled up in her throat, an agonising sound as she felt her body stiffen too, fear winning so easily. She turned her face away and Ross lifted his head, disbelief in his voice.
'Helen! Don't leave me now! We want each other. It's beautiful.'
'I can't! I can't!' The words seemed to be dragged out of her from some deep core of loneliness, and his brief anger faded as he heard her voice.
'You're crying! Have I hurt you? Am I frightening you? Look at me, please!' She shook her head, keeping her eyes tightly closed, shame washing across the whole of her body.
'I...I can't go any further. I'm so sorry, Ross. This is all my fault.'
'A minute ago you wanted me,' he said huskily. 'A minute ago you were the most wild and passionate woman I've ever held in my arms. You wanted me in any way you could get me, just as I want you.'
'I thought I did. I was so sure, but I know now I can't. I can never ... I'm frigid, Ross. Agreeing to the sort of marriage you wanted was easy for me because I'm completely cold.'
'Cold?' Astonishingly his hand stroked her face, gentle although his fingers trembled. 'Are you? Who told you that, Gilford?'
'Yes. But I knew anyway. I never wanted him to touch me. I never let him close...like..like this and when we were married I...I couldn't! It was hateful. It disgusted me.'
'And he forced you.'
'Yes.' Tears streamed down her face, shame overwhelming her. She would never be able to face him again, now that he knew her total degradation.
His hands cupped her face and she felt the deep stillness in him that came before his anger, so that when he spoke so softly she was bewildered, shocked into opening her eyes.
'Yes,' he said quietly. 'Look at me, Helen. Admit where you are. Are you disgusted now? Is it hateful to be lying naked in my arms?'
'No.' She shook her head, apprehension in her blue eyes. 'But you see, I can't. . .'
'I told you a long time ago that I'd never ask anything you weren't capable of. I still won't. Just relax, stop being afraid. Let me hold you. I need to. Have I ever hurt you?'
She shook her head, her eyes held by his as she slowly subsided, her fear draining away a little at a time, her stiff body, so cold and taut, beginning to warm against his skin.
Perilous Refuge Page 15
