But he wouldn’t want her now, not after what Michael had done to her. She wouldn’t see or hear from Leon again after tonight, she knew it. And she didn’t want to—did she?
‘Here,’ Leon held her jacket out to her.
‘Thank you,’ she accepted, hastily putting her arms in the sleeves.
‘Will Jenny be there when you get home?’ he asked once they were in the car and on their way to her home.
‘She—she may be. I don’t think she was going out.’
‘If she isn’t there would you like me to stay with you?’
‘Oh no! No, that won’t be necessary.’
His mouth turned back. ‘I meant, would you like me to sit with you. You’re too upset to be alone right now.’
‘Oh—I see. You—you’re very kind.’
‘I wasn’t offering out of kindness, Helen,’ he snapped. ‘I just didn’t want you to be alone brooding.’
She gave a wan smile. ‘I’m not suicidal, if that’s what you think.’
‘I should damn well hope not!’ His anger couldn’t be contained. ‘If I thought you were that much of a coward I wouldn’t leave you alone for a minute.’
‘A coward?’ she choked.
‘Yes, a coward. You have to either be very brave or a coward to take your own life, and I don’t think you’re either of those things.’
‘I’m certainly not brave,’ she agreed. ‘When—when all that happened to me, I just wanted to crawl away and hide. And I did to a certain extent, I hid behind Jenny.’
‘But you aren’t going to hide any more,’ he told her firmly.
‘I can’t seem to hide from you,’ Helen admitted slowly.
‘I’m glad,’ he said softly.
‘Are you?’ Her voice was husky.
‘Yes,’ he said harshly. ‘I want to see you again, Helen.’
‘You do?’ She couldn’t hide her surprise.
‘I do. But I have to go away tomorrow for a couple of weeks.’
‘Oh. I see.’ She had known how it would be—his awkward excuses, the brush-off she wasn’t supposed to realise was one.
‘No, you don’t see at all! I do want to see you again, Helen. This trip to the States is something I can’t get out of. We have to do some filming over there, and I can hardly refuse to go,’ he added dryly.
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she looked down at her hands, ‘I understand.’
‘Don’t take that attitude with me!’ Leon snapped angrily. ‘You don’t understand a damn thing. If it was just me involved then I wouldn’t go, but I—’
‘I understand!’ she repeated curtly. ‘I don’t need these excuses, Leon. I’ve revealed a lot to you this evening, but that doesn’t mean you have to feel under an obligation to me, an obligation you want to gently ease out of. I’m not a child. I can—’
‘You can damn well shut up,’ he warned grimly. ‘Shut up or take the consequences. Right now I would like to put you over my knee and spank you—or something you would find infinitely harder to take. I’d like to kiss you until you’re senseless,’ he explained at her questioning look. ‘But I won’t,’ he repented at the sudden paling of her face, and smiled at her unhidden sigh of relief. ‘You do absolutely nothing for a man’s ego, Helen.’
She gave an embarrassed smile. ‘I’m sorry. And you’ve been so kind to me too.’
‘I have not been kind,’ Leon refuted tersely. ‘If anything I’m being selfish. I still want to be the man who’s in your life when you come alive again. If I were kind I would say goodnight to you in a few minutes’ time and never see you again. But I’m not going to do that. I’m going to make you feel again, I’m going to make you, Helen. And it could turn out to be a very painful experience, for me as well as for you. But I can promise you this, I’ll never make love to you until you ask me to.’
She shuddered anew. ‘I’ll never ask you to do that!’
‘You will,’ he promised grimly. ‘Oh yes, you will. I just hope I can keep my promise until then.’ He stopped the car outside her block of flats, turning to look at her in the darkness. ‘Looking the way you do, you don’t make it easy for me,’ he said huskily.
‘I—I don’t?’ She looked at him with huge eyes.
‘You’re too beautiful for my peace of mind. I’ll be thinking of you all the time I’m in the States. Would you like me to telephone you?’
‘Do you want to?’ Her voice was almost a whisper.
‘Oh yes,’ his was equally soft. ‘I want to. I want to take you with me, but I suppose that’s out of the question?’
‘I—I have a job to do.’
‘If that’s the only reason for your refusal then throw the job in.’
Her laugh caught in her throat. ‘You really are arrogant!’
‘I’d like you with me, Helen. I can’t believe you really need to work.’
‘I need to work because it gives me something to do. But you’re right when you say I don’t need to work, I’m quite a rich woman. As Michael’s widow I inherited some money left to him by his grandmother. But I’ve never touched a penny of it. I didn’t want him, so I certainly didn’t want his money. I wanted to give it back, but his mother has always refused to speak to me, even through lawyers. The money is just sitting in the bank gaining interest.’
‘Muriel West won’t miss it. Besides, I think her son owed you something for the pain and humiliation he caused you.’
‘You and Jenny share a lot of the same opinions,’ she commented.
He grinned. ‘So I gathered. Use the money, Helen, live a little. But not too much,’ he warned. ‘I don’t want you getting involved with anyone else while I’m away.’
‘Now is that likely?’ she asked dryly.
‘I hope not. Shall I come upstairs with you or will you be all right alone?’
‘I’ll be fine.’ She already had the car door open ready to make her escape. ‘Goodnight, Leon.’
His hand was on her arm. ‘No goodnight kiss?’
‘No!’
His hand fell away. ‘I thought not.’ He straightened in his seat. ‘I’ll call you from the States.’
‘You really don’t have—’
‘I have to, Helen,’ he cut in abruptly, staring straight ahead of him. ‘I want to.’
‘All right,’ she accepted quietly. ‘I’ll look forward to your call.’
Leon turned to look at her with tortured eyes. ‘Helen…’ he groaned longingly.
She got out of the car as quickly as she could, a completely undignified exit, but one made out of desperation. ‘Good—goodnight, Leon.’
His foot pressed down heavily on the accelerator, the force of his speed slamming the passenger door shut.
Helen walked up the stairs with heavy feet. Had she done the right thing tonight by revealing so much, by making herself vulnerable to this man?
Jenny stood up on her entrance and switched off the television, turning to give her a questioning look. ‘Have a nice evening?’ she ventured when Helen remained silent.
‘Very nice, thank you.’ Helen went through to the bedroom and began preparing for bed.
Jenny came to lean on the doorjamb. ‘Are you seeing him again?’
Helen shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’
‘You don’t want to tell me about it, hm?’
‘There’s nothing to tell.’
‘But you don’t know if you’re seeing him again?’
‘No.’
‘Okay,’ Jenny shrugged. ‘Like some coffee?’
‘No, thanks. I think I’ll just get straight to sleep.’ Helen climbed into bed.
‘I’ll see you in the morning, then. I’m going to have a coffee.’
Helen lay awake long after Jenny had had the proposed coffee and come to bed herself, her troubled thoughts all of Leon Masters. He had professed not to be put off by what she had told him, and he did still seem to want to see her. But did she want to see him? Telling him the truth about herself had hurt and humiliated her, and yet it had somehow ma
de her feel free too. To have actually spoken to someone of the events of her short marriage was exhilarating, but that it should be Leon Masters she had told made her blush. How would she be able to face him again? Did she want to, that was the point?
She was so confused, more confused than she had been before seeing him this evening. She had nothing to offer him, nothing to offer any man. If she carried on seeing him he would come to expect something from her, some show that his attraction was reciprocated, and while she acknowledged that he was a very handsome and magnetising man, she couldn’t see him in any other light than as a predator. And she was his prey!
‘Are you still awake?’ Jenny questioned in the darkness.
She hesitated about answering. ‘Yes,’ she finally admitted.
‘Are you worrying about Leon?’
‘In what way?’ Helen queried sharply.
’In any way,’ Jenny clarified.
‘Not worried about him exactly. He confuses me, Jenny. What I feel for him, for all men, and how I react to him are in complete variance with each other.’
‘Then you do feel something for him?’
‘Something,’ Helen agreed slowly. ‘He’s so handsome, everything about him is—attractive, and yet…’
‘I seem to remember that you once said he had too much of everything,’ Jenny teased.
‘And he does too! Mainly too much charisma.’
‘I’ve noticed,’ Jenny said dryly.
‘But although I can see him as an attractive man, can even feel drawn to him in some ways, I shy away from him every time he comes near me.’
‘You need time, that’s all,’ Jenny said excitedly. ‘I’m just so pleased that someone is getting through to you at last.’
‘But what if he doesn’t have the patience to wait?’ Helen voiced worriedly. ‘He’s never struck me as the patient type.’
‘I doubt that he is. But that he understands your problem will be a help. He does understand, doesn’t he?’
‘If you mean did I tell him about Michael, the answer is yes. I told him everything. I think in a way I was hoping to put him off once and for all. I thought I had succeeded at first, but driving me home—well, he hasn’t been put off.’
‘And you will be seeing him again?’
‘He says so.’ Helen sighed. ‘But he’s going to be away for a couple of weeks, he could have forgotten all about me by the time he gets back.’
‘That isn’t very likely.’
‘You haven’t forgotten his reputation?’ Helen said dryly. ‘I told you the first time I met him that he’s a rake, and you know it’s true.’
‘No man gets to be thirty-four without a few affairs.’
‘A few? I’ve lost count of them! No, Jenny, I have a feeling he’ll forget me while he’s in America.’ And strangely that hurt.
* * *
Helen waited all week for him to call, but didn’t hear from him. It was amazing how just in the short time she had known him she had come to rely on seeing him. Knowing he wasn’t even in the country made her feel curiously vulnerable, as if by telling him about herself she had put herself in his care.
Perhaps that was why the picture in the Sunday newspapers of Leon out at a party with his female co-star hurt her like a physical pain. The Sunday newspapers tended to report on that sort of thing more than any other daily newspaper. Crystal Graves was a tall classical blonde, very beautiful, very assured, and Leon was gazing into her face as if he wanted to do more than just look at her.
Helen felt betrayed by the photograph. Leon had forgotten her, forgotten he ever knew her. She had been confused, hesitant, even frightened before she had finally told him everything about herself, and it had meant nothing to him; she meant nothing to him. He had calmly gone off to America to work and was now dating the beautiful actress. He might even be laughing at her now for the mess she had made of her life.
No! That she couldn’t believe. Leon might be cruel at times, a little heartless on occasion, but he wouldn’t laugh at her, of that she felt sure. He had probably just decided he didn’t want her sort of complication in his life, that he didn’t have the time to cope with a near-hysterical female every time he came near her.
She handed the open newspaper to Jenny without a word and got up to remove their breakfast things. She had a smile fixed on her face when she came back from the kitchen, desperate that Jenny shouldn’t see just how hurt she was by Leon’s defection. ‘It’s a good photograph, isn’t it?’ she remarked lightly.
’I’m sure there’s been some sort of mistake.’ Jenny was watching her closely.
‘You can’t make a mistake with a photograph,’ said Helen with forced humour.
What she really wanted to do was crawl away and cry her heart out. It seemed that now Leon had finally been the one to reduce her to tears he was going to do it all the time. She had liked it better when she felt nothing.
‘Perhaps it was a publicity stunt,’ Jenny persisted. ‘I believe they sometimes do that, the romantic image and all that.’
‘Even if it was for publicity you can’t dispute the fact that he hasn’t called me as he said he would.’
‘Well, he must have been pretty busy over there, and then there’s the time difference. Perhaps by the time he’s had a free moment it’s been too late to call here, we might have already gone to bed.’
‘Then he could have got up slightly earlier one morning and telephoned then. No, Jenny, I’ll just have to face it, I’ve frightened him off.’
Jenny sighed. ‘I’m sure you’re wrong. There has to be a logical explanation for it.’
‘Oh, there is—he prefers Crystal Graves. And who wouldn’t!’
Her cousin gave her an impatient look. ‘You don’t know that that’s true.’
‘I know that he hasn’t called, and that’s enough for me.’
‘You’re so stubborn,’ Jenny sighed.
‘It’s better than being gullible as I used to be.’
Jenny stood up. ‘You’re impossible! I lose all patience with you. Matt’s taking me out today, would you like to come with us?’
‘Matt, not Brent?’
Jenny blushed. ‘I told you to forget that conversation.’
‘Yes, but—’
’Please, Helen. Now, do you want to come with us?’
‘Stop fussing about me, Jen,’ said Helen. ‘You don’t need to invite me along on your dates. Goodness, you never used to be this protective!’
‘I just thought you might enjoy it better than sitting here on your own all day.’
‘Being miserable,’ Helen added the words her cousin omitted. ‘But I’m not going to be miserable,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ve got plenty to occupy me.’
‘Such as?’ Jenny challenged.
‘I’m going to have a long leisurely bath, wash my hair, read my book, and then maybe I’ll watch a good weepy on the television. They usually put one of those old sentimental films on on a Sunday afternoon.’
‘It doesn’t sound the height of excitement to me,’ Jenny derided.
‘I don’t want excitement. I’m going to have that bath, you can do what you like.’
‘Thanks!’
‘Oh, you know what I mean. Just go out with Matt and stop worrying about me.’ Helen went into the bedroom before Jenny could raise any more arguments. She really would much rather be on her own, and she wouldn’t be miserable either.
When she came out of the bedroom to go and have her bath Jenny had already left, supposedly with Matt. She would have to apologise to her cousin when she got back.
It was good to relax in the hot soapy water, to soak all the strains and tensions out of her body. It had been a hard week, a week when she had tried to regain Mr Walters’ good opinion of her. She thought she had succeeded. The girls had all been curious, Sally especially, as to whether or not she was still seeing her Leon Masters look-alike. If only they knew it was actually Leon himself!
Her sigh was deep-felt as she heard the telephone b
egin ringing. It couldn’t be anyone important, she would just let it ring. Finally it stopped, only to start up again a few seconds later. She climbed angrily out of the bath, grabbing a towel before rushing out into the lounge.
She snatched up the receiver. ‘Yes?’ she snapped.
‘Helen.’
Colour flooded her cheeks as she instantly recognised Leon’s voice. He sounded so near, not thousands of miles away. ‘Yes?’ Her voice wasn’t forthcoming.
‘You sound breathless.’ He didn’t bother to introduce himself. ‘What have you been doing?’
‘Who is that?’ She was deliberately awkward.
She heard him give a husky laugh. ‘It’s me, my cool Helen.’
‘I’m sorry…’ she sounded vague. ‘Who is me?’
‘Who else calls you “cool Helen”?’ Was it her imagination or was there a sharpness to his voice now?
‘Oh, it’s you,’ she said unenthusiastically.
‘That’s what I like about you, Helen, you’re so encouraging. What were you doing when I called?’
‘Taking a bath.’
‘Oh God!’ she heard him groan as if in pain.
‘What’s the matter?’ she asked worriedly. ‘What happened?’
‘Nothing happened. At least, nothing I could tell you over the telephone,’ he said hoarsely. ‘It’s just—what do you have on?’
She looked down at her naked body, the towel still in her hand. ‘Well, actually…’
‘You don’t have anything on?’
‘No,’ she admitted.
‘Oh, God!’ he groaned again.
‘Are you sure there’s nothing wrong?’ she frowned.
‘Oh yes, there’s something wrong, I’m too damned far away from you. The thought of you standing there talking to me stark naked is driving me insane.’
She gasped at her stupidity. ‘Don’t be disgusting!’
‘Oh, Helen, I—’
‘Don’t you “oh, Helen” me,’ she snapped. ‘You—you Casanova!’ she accused hotly.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I don’t know why you made this telephone call, Mr Masters, but I certainly don’t wish to speak to you. You’re nothing but a—’
Living Together Page 7
