That Devil Love

by Lee Wilkinson

  When they were alone again, he asked gloomily, ‘I suppose he swept you off your feet?’

  ‘Yes, you could say that.’

  Suddenly, violently, he said, ‘That’s what I should have done. I’ve loved you for ages… I was hoping you’d marry me one day…’

  ‘Oh, Stephen, I’m sorry.’ Impulsively she took his hand and gave it a squeeze. ‘But even if…if things had been different, I couldn’t have married you.’

  He gripped her hand almost painfully. ‘But you made me think you liked me. You said you preferred me to Zan Power… I should have known you didn’t mean it.’

  ‘When I said it, I did mean it,’ she assured him. ‘I’ve always been fond of you. But fondness isn’t enough. I’ve never loved anyone enough to want to marry them…’

  ‘Until he came along… Well, I suppose I can’t blame you for falling for him; he’s got it all. I just wish things could have been different. I wish I could have been the one to sweep you off your feet…’

  Stephen, with his usual dogged persistence, went over the same ground again and again. It was almost eight-thirty before Annis could escape, and by that time the restaurant was full.

  Suddenly afraid of the consequences if Zan should happen to see them together, she insisted on going home by taxi.

  As he put her into it, she said awkwardly, ‘It might be best if you don’t tell anyone we’ve had dinner together.’

  Catching on with unusual quickness, Stephen said bitterly, ‘You’ve no need to worry, he’s not likely to be jealous of me.’

  That’s all you know, Annis thought, as the taxi drew away.

  When she reached Griffin House it was dark and silent. Clearly Zan hadn’t yet returned. Hardly knowing whether to be pleased or sorry, she went straight to bed. Though she was utterly weary, she found herself listening for him, unable to sleep. It was the early hours of the morning before she heard the front door open and close, and his step on the stairs.

  Next day it was almost noon when she awoke. The house was quiet and, instinct told her, empty. Surely he wasn’t working all weekend?

  She pulled on a skirt and top and, her hair in a ponytail, went down to the kitchen. Having made some coffee and a cheese sandwich, unable to settle to anything, she tried to immerse herself in the Sunday papers.

  Still she was jumpy, on edge, listening for every sound, waiting for something to happen. No, not for something to happen, for Zan to come home.

  It was well after six when she finally heard his key in the lock and hurried into the hall.

  He looked tired was her first thought, like a man who’d driven himself too fast and too far. He also looked as if he was quietly, but lethally, angry. There was a grim purpose in his manner, a controlled urgency that almost crackled.

  Trying to hide her anxiety, she asked, ‘What time would you like dinner?’

  ‘We’re eating out,’ he said curtly. ‘A foursome. I’ve arranged to be at Helen’s by seven-thirty.’

  ‘Oh,’ she said without enthusiasm, feeling headachy and depressed and anything but sociable.

  The look he gave her chilled her to the marrow. ‘You sound as if you don’t like Helen?’

  ‘As a matter of fact, I do. I like her very much.’

  ‘I’m glad about that,’ he said sardonically. ‘I wouldn’t want your prejudices to spill over.’

  Without another word, he turned away.

  Seeing nothing else for it, Annis followed him up the stairs to shower and change.

  Her blonde hair in a smooth coil, she added a touch of mascara to her long, gold-tipped lashes, and a pale gloss to her lips, before stepping into a slim-skirted black dress which looked wonderful with her golden tan. A light spray of Rive Gauche and she was ready.

  Though she’d been quick, Zan was waiting in the hall. Freshly shaven, his black curls still slightly damp, he looked impeccable in a dark, lightweight suit with an ivory silk shirt and a tie with swirls of muted colour.

  Though on the surface he now appeared more relaxed, Annis judged that, in reality, he remained taut as a drawn bowstring.

  Whatever had been bugging him still was.

  When they reached Elwood Place, Helen’s housekeeper opened the door. A moment later Helen herself appeared and greeted him warmly, before turning to address a laughing word to someone behind her.

  Only when the man followed her on to the pavement did Annis realise that it wasn’t Matt but Stephen.

  Shock made her mouth go dry and the smile of greeting freeze on her face.

  ‘Hi,’ Helen said cheerfully as she climbed into the back of the car, followed by Stephen. ‘I gather you liked Hawaii… Zan says you can stand the heat…which is just as well.’ Then, without pause, ‘What did you think of San Francisco?’

  ‘Loved it,’ Annis managed through stiff lips.

  ‘Matt’s over there at the moment on a flying visit,’ Helen told her, ‘so Stephen has kindly agreed to be my escort.’

  ‘Mr Power rang and asked—’ Stephen began.

  ‘We’re away from the office,’ Zan interrupted, as he slid behind the wheel, ‘so we can dispense with formality.’

  Obviously gratified, Stephen resumed, ‘Zan rang and asked me to make up a foursome…’

  For asked read ordered, Annis thought bitterly.

  ‘Of course I was delighted…’

  Why had Zan engineered this foursome? she wondered, alarm spreading through her like smoke through a burning house.

  Aware that he never did anything without a good reason, she feared for Stephen. Though she knew that Stephen’s comfortably prosaic appearance was belied by a sharp, not to say brilliant brain where electronics were concerned, when it came to dealing with a man of Zan’s calibre he was like a child in the company of a tiger.

  Glancing at Zan’s dark, formidable profile, she hid a shiver of apprehension. Whatever he might be planning, her only defence seemed to be an icy composure.

  That composure was badly shaken when they drew up outside Sunter’s.

  Annis was careful not to glance in Stephen’s direction as they were ushered to a table on the edge of the tiny dance-floor.

  Apparently intent on making the evening a festive one, Zan asked for champagne before going on to order lavishly.

  The food, when it came, was excellent, the champagne vintage. As far as Annis was concerned it could have been bread and water.

  While the meal progressed they discussed a wide range of topics, before going on to job losses and the effects of the recession.

  For the most part Annis listened, leaving it mainly to Helen and Stephen, both animated talkers.

  But it was soon clear that Zan, though saying appreciably less than the other two, was the one who controlled the conversation.

  He was a born manipulator, she thought grimly, and they were merely puppets.

  Only when he purposefully introduced the subject of redundancies in the companies he owned did she suddenly see with blinding clarity why he’d arranged this evening.

  Somehow he knew she’d had dinner with Stephen. That was what had been bugging him.

  Biting her inner lip until she tasted blood, Annis admitted it was all her fault. She should never have agreed.

  Now, for something so petty, Zan was going to set about destroying Stephen. Poor, innocent Stephen…

  She gripped her wine glass until the delicate stem was in danger of snapping, wanting desperately to say something, to tell Zan the meeting had been accidental and quite innocent.

  But the expression on his face told her with certainty that even if he believed her, and that was doubtful, it was too late to deflect him from his purpose.

  Poised for the kill, his beautiful mouth ruthless, Zan met her burning gaze with a glint of pure steel before turning back to the younger man.

  ‘My biggest headache with regard to the middle management strata,’ he continued evenly, ‘quite often proves to be that I’ve too many chiefs and not enough indians…

  ‘You
r team have been doing some really excellent work, but I already have a central think-tank… Now the indians can be successfully amalgamated, but I won’t need two chiefs…’

  Lulled into a false sense of security, happily unaware of the suspended axe, Stephen waited eagerly as his boss went on, ‘My own head of department, who’s been with me for years, is a very good man and I’d hate to lose him. He’s also married, with a young child and another on the way…’

  Zan paused, before adding deliberately, ‘Which means, I’m afraid, that you will have to be the one to go.’

  Surprise in her lovely sherry-coloured eyes, Helen stared at her brother. While Annis, her slim hands clenched in fists of impotent rage, was engulfed by a tide of hatred so strong she felt sick.

  His round, chubby face blank with shock, his mouth hanging foolishly open, Stephen sat quite still.

  ‘However,’ Zan continued blandly, ‘you’re much too valuable to lose entirely, so I have a suggestion to make…

  ‘Blair’s communications set-up in Santa Clara, better known as Silicon Valley, need a man with your kind of brains and ability…you’ve already made quite a few business trips out to California, so you know the ropes, which is invaluable. They want someone to go out to installations not only in the States, but Central and South America, the West Indies, anywhere in that part of the globe…

  ‘I’ve already mentioned your name to them, and the job’s yours if you want it…and don’t mind living in the Golden State.’ The last was added jokingly.

  In the background a small dance orchestra started to play, ‘Do You Know The Way To San Jose?’

  Zan smiled, relishing the irony, before going on, ‘It means a big step up the ladder, a much higher salary, and far greater freedom.’

  His ears glowing like rubies, Stephen burst out eagerly, ‘It sounds fantastic! Don’t you think so, Annis?’

  She couldn’t have said a word to save herself from the scaffold.

  Catching her eye, Zan smiled like a tiger and added, ‘They want a kind of troubleshooter who’s able to get up and go at a moment’s notice. And they need someone who can start immediately.’

  ‘By immediately you mean…?’

  ‘A seat’s been booked on tomorrow’s plane. When I spoke to you earlier you mentioned your American visa is still valid, and this will be classed as a business trip until you can obtain the necessary clearance.’ Briskly, he went on, ‘I believe you’re still living with your parents?’

  ‘That’s right,’ Stephen admitted.

  ‘So you’ll have no problems property-wise?’

  ‘No, but I…’ Thrown by the suddenness of it, Stephen stopped and gave Annis a helpless look.

  ‘As you two are old friends,’ Zan said smoothly, ‘perhaps you’d like a chance to discuss it?’

  The orchestra had changed to a Cole Porter classic, and, turning to Helen, he asked, ‘Would you care to dance?’

  ‘Love to.’ She rose to her feet with a smile, a confident woman at ease with this formidable man.

  Annis watched the pair take to the crowded floor with a strange feeling of detachment.

  They made an impressive couple. Both black-haired, both olive-skinned, both with that extra something—glamour, charisma, sex-appeal, call it what you would—that set certain people apart.

  Becoming aware that Stephen was talking, Annis dragged her gaze away and gave him her attention.

  ‘…It’s come so out of the blue… I suppose it’s knocked me sideways. But it’s just the kind of opportunity I’ve dreamt of. A troubleshooter…’ There was excitement in his voice, and his eyes were alight. ‘I’ve always wanted to travel, to have that kind of interesting, colourful job instead of just boring routine.’

  Annis was staggered. She’d never guessed what a fiery, romantic nature lay beneath his commonplace, somewhat dull exterior. But it helped to explain his admiration for his boss.

  It also explained why Zan—who had clearly read him much better than she had—had offered him such an inducement.

  ‘If you feel like that, it makes sense to take it,’ she said firmly.

  ‘I’m glad you think so,’ Zan remarked with grim satisfaction.

  Startled, she looked up and met those icy green-gold eyes. What she read in them made her shiver and glance hastily away.

  He waited courteously until Helen was seated before resuming his own chair. Then, turning to the younger man, he asked, ‘So what’s your answer?’

  Stephen squared his shoulders. ‘I’d like the job.’

  Zan nodded approval and said briskly, ‘Be in the MD’s office tomorrow morning at ten-thirty. I’ll have all the necessary paperwork ready and fill you in on the details.’

  Mission accomplished, he apparently saw no reason to linger. Within minutes the bill was paid and they were on their way.

  Stephen had left his car at Elwood Place, so Zan took them both back to Helen’s.

  ‘Coming in for a coffee?’ she asked, as they drew up outside.

  ‘No, thanks,’ Zan refused. Curling a hand around Annis’s nape, he added softly, ‘I’m planning on us having an early night.’

  It was a barely concealed threat that chilled her blood and sent shivers chasing through her.

  Somehow she found her voice and said to Stephen, ‘I hope you have a good journey… Make all those dreams come true.’

  When the pair alighted, after saying their goodbyes and thanks for a lovely evening, Helen tucked a companionable arm through Stephen’s and asked, ‘You’ll have a coffee before you go, won’t you?’

  As soon as the car door slammed, without a word, Zan turned the wheel and drove away.

  After one surreptitious peep at the cold, ruthless mask of his face, Annis stared straight ahead and, biting her lip, tried not to give way to the threatening panic.

  While he garaged the car she let herself in and hung up her coat. She wanted desperately to run, to lock herself in her room. But in the mood he was in he might easily break down the door. And if he was once driven to violence there was no knowing where it might end…

  Shivering, she went through to the kitchen, facing the fact that a confrontation was inevitable. But he wouldn’t hurt her, she told herself firmly.

  When she glanced up to find him standing silently in the doorway, watching her with hooded eyes, she was no longer quite so sure.

  Annis had never lacked courage, and now, in extremity, deciding attack was the best means of defence, she lifted her chin and asked, ‘How did you know?’

  ‘I’d gone to have a meal at Sunter’s when I saw you there together.’ Flatly, he added, ‘I decided that for everyone’s sake, not least his own, he had to go.’

  ‘Well, congratulations! He’s gone, or as good as… And where has it got you? What have you actually achieved?’

  He came towards her, tall and lean and dangerous. ‘You tell me.’

  ‘Absolutely nothing!’

  ‘Oh, a little more than that, I think,’ he disagreed. ‘At the very least I’ve cleared the decks.’

  ‘And in record time,’ she said with undisguised rancour. ‘Short of using a magic wand, you couldn’t have got rid of him faster.’

  Then, voicing the additional worry that had been lurking at the back of her mind, ‘I suppose after a short interval they’ll get rid of him just as fast.’

  ‘Not if he can do the job,’ Zan answered coldly. ‘And I believe he can. In fact I rather think it will suit him to perfection.’

  ‘A fat lot you’d care if it didn’t. You’ve deprived him of a good, safe position, turned his life upside down, and it wasn’t even necessary.’

  ‘Oh, it was necessary, believe me,’ Zan said grimly. ‘Once I knew he was meeting my wife behind my back…’

  She flinched at the venom in his voice.

  ‘Look,’ she said desperately, ‘I realise now it was a silly thing to do, but it wasn’t planned. He was going to see Linda and Richard as I was coming away. We had a meal together, that’s all. It was
quite innocent.’

  ‘He was holding your hand.’ Zan’s voice cut like a whiplash.

  ‘No, I was holding his.’ She saw Zan’s eyes flash as she set the record straight. ‘I just felt sorry for the way I’d treated him,’ she added shakily. Then with a flash of spirit, ‘If you thought something was going on, I’m surprised you didn’t come over…’

  Dispassionately, Zan said, ‘I couldn’t trust myself not to kill him. I had to walk the streets until I’d got myself under control and could think of some more civilised way of dealing with him.’

  ‘Why didn’t you just fire him?’ she asked curiously. ‘Why go to all the trouble of finding him another job?’

  ‘Just firing him wouldn’t have served my purpose. I prefer to have him six thousand miles away.’ With biting self-derision, he added, ‘And I didn’t want you to hate me any more than you already do.’

  ‘That would be impossible,’ she told him sweetly, and heard his teeth grind together.

  ‘Well, hate me or not,’ he said coldly, ‘tonight you’re sharing my bed. From now on this marriage is going to be a real one.’

  ‘No!’ Her voice high and frightened, she said, ‘That’s breaking the terms of our agreement.’

  He looked at her coldly. ‘But you’ve already broken them.’

  Her blood seemed to freeze in her veins. Just for that innocent meeting, for holding hands, he’d dealt ruthlessly with Stephen. Now his icy anger was directed against her, and she was going to have to pay.

  ‘Oh, please…’ she begged.

  He smiled tigerishly. ‘I intend to…’

  She stood quite still trying desperately to get her thoughts into some kind of order, but they were tumbled, chaotic, like a kaleidoscope being turned so quickly that no clear pattern could emerge.

  ‘Well, Annis? Are you coming willingly? Or do I have to carry you?’

  It would be useless trying to fight him, she knew. He was quite determined, and so much stronger than she was. A passive resistance might prove to be her best, maybe her only defence.

  Head high, she preceded him up the stairs and into his bedroom.