Naive Awakening

by Cathy Williams

  ‘I’d rather not have been blackmailed by a wily old man into being here,’ he murmured, ‘but, now that I am here, I suppose I might as well sit back and enjoy it.’

  ‘How good of you,’ Leigh said sarcastically. ‘Please don’t feel obliged to stay here on my account. I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself if you want to leave.’

  ‘Are you?’ His eyes roamed over her body. ‘Dressed like that? The men in Yorkshire may be immune to that sexy dress you’re wearing, but you might find the going a little bit heavier here in London.’

  Leigh went bright red. He had not commented on her choice of clothes, and now she wished that he hadn’t, because his words threw her into a state of addled confusion.

  She searched in her head for something to say that would rescue her from her discomfort and muttered coldly, ‘Not everyone has sex on the brain.’

  ‘And you think I do, do you?’

  Oh, lord, Leigh thought desperately. Despite what he might think of her as a cold-blooded gold-digger, who was deliberately taking advantage of her situation, nothing had ever prepared her for a conversation along these lines. She simply didn’t know how to handle it. She didn’t know how to handle him.

  And, of course, the damned musical was inconsiderately showing no signs of getting into action.

  ‘Don’t you?’ she asked stiffly, pleased that her voice did not betray her.

  He shrugged. ‘We act according to our situation, don’t we?’ he said softly. ‘Commitment isn’t on my list of priorities, so I don’t indulge in it.’

  ‘How controlled.’

  His face hardened imperceptibly. ‘I don’t think I care for the judgemental tone of voice,’ he grated. ‘As I said, we act according to our situation.’ He reached out, and his fingers lingered on the diamond necklace around her neck. Where he touched her, her skin burnt. ‘Look at you,’ he said coolly. ‘Plucked from your good pubs and wonderful scenery, and introduced to all this. Don’t tell me you haven’t reacted accordingly. This diamond necklace tells its own story.’

  She pulled away from him, angry. ‘Whatever story it’s telling you, it’s the wrong one,’ she snapped, her eyes cold.

  There was a burst of music, as the orchestra finally swung into action, and she turned away in relief.

  This, she thought, was going to be heavy weather. She couldn’t cope with Nicholas’s faces. One minute ruthlessly critical, then charming almost without trying. Until, that was, he remembered his mistrust of her, then that cold mask would snap into place, leaving her bewildered and confused.

  The thoughts raged through her head, until they were driven back by the players on the stage, acting out their absorbing tale of thwarted love. By the time the curtain fell for the intermission, she found that she had been enjoying herself.

  ‘Drink?’ Nicholas asked, rising to his feet.

  She nodded, her eyes still bright from the pleasure aroused by the play. He guided her to the bar, which seemed much too small for the throng of people occupying it and which was humming with the sound of raised voices. She stood in one corner while he went to fetch their drinks, looking around her in fascination.

  He returned and handed her her glass of orange juice, which she gulped thirstily.

  ‘Are you enjoying the play?’ she ventured conversationally, and he shrugged.

  ‘Romantic musicals aren’t exactly my cup of tea, but yes, it’s well done.’

  ‘And what exactly are your cup of tea? Don’t tell me, hard-hitting court-room dramas.’

  His face softened into an expression of amusement. ‘That would be akin to a busman’s holiday, wouldn’t it? No, I prefer to leave the court-room drama for the court.’

  He swallowed a mouthful of whisky, and was about to continue when a tall blond man tapped him on the shoulder, his blue eyes fixed on Leigh.

  ‘Nicholas,’ the man said, still staring at Leigh until she averted her eyes. ‘Where’s Jessica?’

  Nicholas didn’t miss a thing. He glanced across to Leigh and frowned. ‘Not here,’ he said succinctly, in a voice which would deter all but the thickest skinned.

  ‘And who might this delightful creature be?’ the man asked, undeterred, grinning at Leigh infectiously. ‘I, by the way, am Gerry. A friend of a friend of Nicholas.’

  Nicholas introduced them shortly, and immediately Gerry insinuated himself next to her.

  ‘An awful place to meet,’ he murmured, gesturing to the crowds, and she nodded in agreement.

  ‘Crowded, isn’t it?’ she said, liking him instantly.

  Next to her, she could feel Nicholas’s reproving silence.

  ‘We’ll have to do something about that,’ Gerry said, flirting outrageously.

  ‘Will we?’

  ‘Sure. This is no place to get to know someone.’ A wicked smile lit up his face.

  She had no difficulty in picking up the signals which he was sending her. Gerry was a playboy through and through. It showed in his flamboyant clothing, pale trousers with an off-white silk shirt and a deep burgundy bow-tie, and in the bantering tone of his voice.

  Leigh smiled back at him and could almost feel Nicholas tense next to her.

  ‘Perhaps we could remedy that…’ There was the merest hint of a question in his voice.

  ‘Perhaps not,’ Nicholas said smoothly. He polished off the remainder of his drink and grasped her elbow.

  ‘I’d love to,’ Leigh said, ignoring him. Why should he tell her what she could and could not do? He wasn’t her guardian, for heaven’s sake.

  Gerry looked delighted. ‘Can I call you?’ he asked, and she nodded.

  ‘Sure,’ she agreed as the bells went and she found herself being dragged back to her seat by Nicholas.

  The minute the play resumed, she instantly forgot about Gerry. From her brief meeting with him, she had liked him well enough, but he had not made sufficient impact on her to occupy her thoughts. Very few people possessed that immediate force of impact which ensured their place in your consciousness after a first meeting. Most were easily forgotten and it was only through repeatedly seeing them that you built up a steady awareness of them.

  By the time they made it out of the theatre, she had all but forgotten Gerry’s existence, and Nicholas made no mention of him as they drove towards the restaurant which had been booked by Sir John.

  It was a cosy Italian place where the waiters were attentive without being obsequious, the décor tasteful and elegant, and the prices horrifyingly astronomical.

  No doubt adhering to his decision that he might as well enjoy himself, now that he was stuck with her, Nicholas chatted to her about the play, his manner easy and relaxed. Although, she noticed, there was always something vaguely watchful about him when he was with her.

  Leigh refused to let that deflate her. She sipped her wine, allowed it to go to her head, and heard herself chatting back to him without her normal defences inhibiting her.

  There was something strangely unreal about being here, dining on fine food, and drinking superb wine. Like some sort of dream.

  She smiled at him and he met her eyes.

  ‘A private joke?’

  ‘No joke,’ Leigh said seriously, ‘I was just thinking how much I enjoyed the musical. It was terribly romantic, wasn’t it?’

  ‘Unrealistic, I would have said,’ Nicholas remarked drily.

  ‘That’s a very pragmatic reaction.’ She nibbled on her starter of smoked salmon and looked at him. The two glasses of wine were beginning to go to her head, knocking down her usual guarded reaction to him, and she thought with alarming clarity that he really was devastatingly sexy.

  ‘It’s the best way to be,’ he drawled, staring back at her until she lowered her eyes.

  ‘Is it?’

  ‘Of course. Only a fool allows himself to be swept off his feet by something as unreliable as love. If such a thing exists. Frankly I have my doubts. From what I’ve seen, people’s motivations are usually far more materialistic.’

  Leigh
swallowed another tiny mouthful of wine and felt a rush of heady excitement.

  ‘That’s rather hard.’

  ‘But true. Most people are out for what they can get, even if that something is just the desire to persuade themselves that happiness and security are attainable.’

  ‘And they’re not?’

  ‘Look at the divorce rate.’

  She looked at him furtively and found his eyes on her. My God, she thought, you’re too attractive for your own good. Stop staring at him, she told herself sternly, try to remember that you are his adversary. And she did try. Very hard. But the wine had made her thoughts fuzzy.

  ‘That doesn’t mean that people don’t hope that things will work out for them,’ she heard herself saying. ‘If everyone thought like you, there would be no such thing as marriage.’

  Nicholas’s mouth twisted cynically. ‘And would that be such a bad thing?’

  There was a bitter tone to his voice, and she thought suddenly, He’s not speculating at all. He’s speaking from experience. Something has tarnished his faith in human nature, and despite what he says it has nothing to do with what he sees every day in court, though that doubtless didn’t help.

  She found herself burning with curiosity, wanting to know what had shaped his views on life.

  It was easy to overlook all the intricate web of events which lay behind the simplest of people’s actions, but no one went through life unaffected by interaction. The depth of her desire to know more about Nicholas frightened her in its intensity, and served to snap her out of her mellow mood of relaxation.

  To be defensive with him was one thing. Even to find him objectively attractive. But to be genuinely interested in him and in what made him tick was a dangerous luxury and one which she knew instinctively she should avoid.

  She sought in her mind for something totally innocuous to say and was saved the effort by the sudden appearance of Gerry at their table. She was so taken aback that she stared at him openly, and he grinned back, obviously misreading her reaction.

  ‘We meet again,’ he said, ignoring Nicholas’s presence.

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Nicholas demanded, and Gerry said good-humouredly,

  ‘Just passing through, would you believe it? No, seriously, I kind of followed you here.’ He gazed at Leigh and Nicholas’s eyes narrowed on them. ‘A difficult exercise in London, but I managed it. Just. Actually, I’ve been sitting over there—’ he pointed to a table in the darkest corner of the room ‘—working myself up to coming over here. I hope I don’t seem forward?’ He addressed the question to Leigh, his blue eyes reminding her of a lost little puppy. Freddie sometimes looked that way when he was trying to wheedle his way around her for one reason or another.

  ‘Very,’ Leigh said, unable to resist a laugh, and Gerry adopted an expression of horror.

  ‘Does this mean that I won’t be able to take you to—’ and he named a well-known London nightclub ‘—tomorrow night?’

  ‘Yes, what does it mean?’ Nicholas asked silkily, sitting back in the chair and folding his arms across his chest. ‘We’re both on the edge of our seats.’

  Back to a state of war, Leigh thought, shooting him an angry glance. How could someone change so quickly?

  She raised her eyes to Gerry, who was anxiously awaiting her reply. ‘I’d love to accompany you tomorrow,’ she said evenly, ‘just so long,’ she warned, ‘as you bear in mind I’m a new hand at this.’

  Nicholas muttered something under his breath and Leigh ignored him. Why should she let him crawl under her skin and dictate her responses to other people?

  Gerry’s face had broken into a pleased grin. ‘Shall I pick you up around eight?’ he asked, and she nodded in agreement, watching in amusement as he jauntily left the restaurant a few minutes later.

  Nicholas’s face, when she turned to face him, was icy with hostility.

  ‘Are you quite ready to leave?’ he asked, watching her as she drained the rest of her coffee.

  They left the restaurant in silence, but she might have guessed that it was too good to last. The minute they were in the street, he rounded on her, his face darkly cynical.

  ‘I must say, for someone who professes to be unused to the fast life, you certainly adapt with surprising ease.’

  Leigh refrained from commenting. She had a sneaking suspicion that any contribution from her would only serve to fan the fire and, besides, she didn’t feel that she owed him any explanation for her actions.

  ‘Well?’ he demanded, grasping her by the arm and half dragging her along. She hurried to keep pace with him, her high heels clacking against the pavement.

  ‘Where are you taking me?’

  ‘To get a taxi,’ he grated, ‘where else? And it’s just as well that I’m taking you; God knows who else might take your fancy between here and the house.’

  ‘That’s a nasty thing to say,’ Leigh said, breathless with rage.

  ‘Well, you certainly weren’t backward in giving Gerry the come-on,’ Nicholas said coldly.

  ‘I didn’t realise that that was what I was doing.’

  ‘Really, lady, who are you trying to kid? In case you don’t know, Gerry isn’t exactly Mr Stable. He has a new woman every week.’

  ‘Are you trying to warn me off him?’ Her breath was coming in little bursts from the exertion of keeping up with his strides.

  ‘Merely informing you of a few facts. Gerry’s a playboy. A pretty face with far too much money for his own good. He’s an only child, and his parents have always lavished him with whatever he wanted. He’s never done a day’s work in his life…’

  ‘Thanks for the warning,’ she snapped, as they approached a taxi, and he yanked open the door for her. ‘You sound like an irate father lecturing to his daughter on the birds and the bees.’ She climbed into the cab and felt the seat depress under his weight as he sat alongside her.

  He leaned forward to tell the taxi driver where they wanted to go and then sank back, his face hard.

  ‘Do I really?’ he said, turning to face her. It was shadowy inside the taxi, and it was difficult for her to make out the expression on his face. All she could see was the glint of his eyes in the darkness.

  ‘You don’t own me,’ she said quietly. ‘You may have got me down here, but that’s no reason for you to believe that you can run my life.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not trying to run your life.’ His mouth was derisive as he stared across the shadows at her. ‘Perhaps I’m worried about Gerry. Has that occurred to you? After all, he’s very wealthy.’

  His words hung in the air, tempting her to strike back.

  ‘I see. And a good catch is just waiting for a good fisherman. Or should I say fisherwoman? Is that it?’ Her voice had risen imperceptibly.

  ‘Would you like my answer to that?’

  No, Leigh thought, I would not like your answer, but she had a feeling that she would get one anyway, and it would be one that she would not find particularly palatable. He was going to be way off target, and she would be impatient to argue with him but she would be forced to listen to what he had to say.

  His fingers found the curve of her chin and he twisted her to face him, to meet the dark glitter in his eyes.

  ‘You plead innocence, protest prettily that you’re as free from guile as the driven snow. But you spend money on my grandfather’s chargecard, and wear the expensive trinkets that he lavishes on you. You look around you and that angelic expression of yours, that butter-wouldn’t-melt look in your eyes, but you don’t exactly dress like an innocent, do you?’ His hand found the curve of her breast, and her body froze as she felt him begin to caress the full swell. She wanted desperately to pull away, but a deep inertia had settled over her.

  He continued to massage her breast with his hand, rolling his thumb over her nipple which hardened to his touch underneath the stretchy black material.

  ‘No,’ he went on, ‘you certainly don’t dress the part,’ but his voice was slightly unsteady now. He undid the
tiny buttons and slipped his hand underneath the dress, and she half closed her eyes, horrified at what was taking place between them, but unable to rouse her body to resistance.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra and his hand found her naked flesh, settling over the ripe warmth of her breast.

  ‘And you certainly don’t act the innocent,’ he muttered, and Leigh pulled back, disgusted and shocked at how far she had allowed him to go. She must be insane!

  ‘How dare you?’ Her voice sounded strangled, even to her own ears.

  ‘Is that what you plan to do to Gerry?’ he asked with biting contempt. ‘Bat your eyelashes, smile guilelessly, but dress to provoke and act accordingly?’

  A white-hot rage flooded her and she raised her hand, only aware of what she was doing when she made contact with his face, and the ringing slap reverberated in the car.

  In the rear-view mirror, she saw the taxi driver glance into the back seat and then just as hurriedly glance away. This, she knew he was thinking, was none of his business.

  ‘Don’t ever do that again,’ he said through gritted teeth.

  ‘And don’t you dare ever insult me again!’ To think that only a short while before she had actually found herself liking this man, wanting to know more about him. Well, she had learnt this much—she would be a fool to let any momentary lapse get in the way of common sense. ‘I’m not asking you to like me, I’m not even asking you to believe me, I’m merely asking you to extend the same politeness towards me as you would to anyone else.’

  ‘Except you’re not anyone else, are you?’ he snarled. ‘You’re little Leigh Taylor, and that child who could run rings around my grandfather has grown into a woman who still can. And you’re very much mistaken if I’ll let you run rings around anyone else.’

  ‘You can’t stop me from seeing Gerry,’ she whispered defiantly. ‘Why won’t you believe me when I tell you that I’m not after anyone’s money?’