The Sex War

by Charlotte Lamb

  A car drew up outside the house. Lindsay glanced at it and did a double-take, her body stiffening. Stephen's car! She started towards the sitting-room door. From upstairs she heard the vacuum cleaner—Alice must have missed the engine note. Lindsay flung open the front door and looked out. Stephen was talking to the two security men, a few feet away. He was wearing a cream raincoat, his head bare, and the rain was pelting down around him.

  'Stephen!' Lindsay called, and he turned towards her. The men stood back, watching. Stephen slowly came up the drive, his body heavy and slumped, his hair plastered to his skull, rain running down his face like tears. He couldn't meet her eyes, he looked haggard and beaten. Lindsay ran to meet him and hugged him, trying not to cry.

  Pulling him into the house, she shut the front door on the watching security men, resenting their curiosity.

  Stephen looked up the stairs. Alice stood at the top of them, staring down at him, her face working. Lindsay walked into the kitchen and shut the door; when she was alone she let her tears escape, they stung her eyes and made her throat ache. Poor Stephen! she thought, remembering his expression as he stood looking at Alice. She had never thought she would ever see her brother look like that.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  'What did Stephen have to say when he realised you'd seen his firm's books?' Lindsay asked Daniel later.

  He was driving her back to her flat in the slashing rain which had apparently settled in for the day, and Lindsay had to raise her voice to be heard above the clatter of the windscreen wipers and the hiss of tyres on wet roads. She would have turned down Daniel's offer of a lift if it hadn't been for the weather, but it was a long walk to the nearest tube station and she hadn't wanted to ask Stephen to take her.

  Daniel glanced at her sideways, shrugging. 'He didn't have much to say about anything, did he?'

  Stephen had come downstairs and gone into the study, talked to Mr Datchet for a few minutes and then walked with his accountant to the front door. Both men had been very quiet; Lindsay had got the impression Stephen was too depressed to care what happened to his firm. If Daniel's interest in his financial position bothered him, he hadn't shown it, and Lindsay had decided not to say any more to her brother than she could help. As soon as Mr Datchet had left, she had told Alice she was going, too, and Alice had been openly relieved. Obviously, she had wanted to be alone with Stephen. They had a lot to say to each other, and they didn't want a third party around, even if she was a member of the family.

  'Stay out of his life,' snapped Lindsay, glaring at Daniel now. 'He can do without your brand of help.'

  'Can he?' Daniel smiled without looking at her, she caught the dry movement of his mouth and fumed.

  'Yes, he can!'

  'Of course, you're an expert on how to salvage wrecks.'

  Lindsay wasn't sure what he meant by that, but she didn't like the sound of it. 'I'm serious, Daniel!' she warned. 'Leave Stephen alone or…'

  'Threatening me?' he mocked. 'I'm shivering in my shoes. What happens if I don't do as I'm told?' He pulled up outside her block of flats and glanced out of the window without waiting to hear her answer. 'We'll have to run for it,' he said, and Lindsay sat upright.

  'We? I don't remember inviting you into my flat?'

  Daniel produced an umbrella from the back of the car. He got out and opened it and Lindsay ran round to dive under its shelter. They ran up the steps, the rain beating down on the thin silk, but once she was inside the building, Lindsay stopped and gave him a frosty look.

  'Thanks for the lift.'

  'What are you afraid of?' Daniel asked, watching her with cool grey eyes which saw too much and had too much intelligence behind them.

  'I'm not afraid of anything, I'm just tired, and I'm not in the mood for one of your barbed chats.'

  'We're going to have to talk soon,' said Daniel, shaking drops of rain off the umbrella.

  'We've got nothing to talk about.'

  'Oh, yes, we have,' he contradicted, and there was a distant triumph in his voice, he was smiling tightly, his mouth curling up at the ends yet not parted.

  Lindsay felt her stomach cave in suddenly, she grew alarmed. Why was he looking at her like that?

  'About what?' she faltered, and Daniel lifted his brows, glancing around.

  'I don't think this is the place for that sort of discussion.'

  Lindsay turned and went up the flight of stairs, her footsteps echoing on the stone floors, and behind her she heard the sound of Daniel's following footsteps and shivered, listening to them; he somehow contrived to give the very way he walked an air of menace. She felt as if she was being hunted down, she involuntarily quickened her own pace and Daniel followed suit, his breathing calm and level while Lindsay's was far too quick and uneven.

  At first she couldn't find her key and even after she'd traced it down in her handbag she couldn't get it into the lock, her fingers were too unsteady. She felt Daniel watching her and flushed, angry with herself for letting him get to her. She was playing into his hands by making a fool of herself in front of him. She pulled herself together as the front door opened, mentally scolding herself. She was not going to let Daniel undermine her.

  'I'm going to make some tea—would you like some?' she asked as casually as she could manage.

  'Fine,' said Daniel, walking into the sitting-room as though he owned the flat. She glared at his back but decided not to lose her temper. Shedding her jacket, she went into the kitchen to put on the kettle. She was just making the tea when she heard Daniel's voice, talking on the phone to someone. Lindsay carried the tea tray into the room as he put the phone down, turning towards her.

  'Make yourself at home,' Lindsay said sarcastically, and he grinned at her.

  'Thanks.' He watched her put the tray down, but as he started towards her, the phone rang again and he whirled and picked it up before Lindsay could get over there. 'Hallo?' he said, listened, then frowned, holding the phone out to her. 'Get rid of him sharpish,' he said, walking away as she lifted the receiver to her ear.

  'Hallo?' she said, and Aston demanded: 'What the hell is he doing in your flat?'

  'I just got back from Stephen's, Daniel drove me home,' Lindsay told him, keeping her back towards Daniel's intent figure and angrily aware that he was listening to every word she said.

  'I know, I rang them—I spoke to your brother. Lindsay, I hope Randall isn't going to be around too much in future. What is he up to?'

  'I don't know, I'm going to find out,' said Lindsay in a casual voice.

  'Watch yourself, darling,' Aston urged, sounding anxious. 'Have dinner with me tonight? We can talk then.'

  'I'd love to,' said Lindsay.

  'Pick you up at seven?'

  'Seven? Fine, see you then.'

  'I think you're fantastic,' said Aston, and she smiled.

  'Same here.' Her voice had lifted, become confident and intimate, there was something exciting about talking to Aston while Daniel listened and could only hear half the conversation. Aston blew her a kiss and she laughed.

  'Bye, see you soon.' She would have liked to send him back a kiss, but she didn't quite dare with Daniel listening, which was ridiculous, because why should she be inhibited by his presence? She put down the phone and turned to feel a shock of alarm as she met the fixed stare of his dangerous grey eyes. Her smile withered and she flinched, then rallied. How dared he look at her like that? He had no right to resent another man's interest in her, they weren't married any more, she was a free agent.

  Managing to smile brightly, she said: 'Aston just wanted to ask me out to dinner.' He needn't think she was going to hide her relationship with Aston from him, because she certainly was not going to, she had a right to a love life, as much as he did. She could be quite sure Daniel had dated other women since they broke up, why shouldn't she do the same?

  'Tonight?' Daniel asked, and she nodded. 'Sleeping with him?' he asked, and her nerves jarred, she flushed.

  'Mind your own business!' Then she spoi
lt her offended attitude by demanding crossly: 'Who are you sleeping with?'

  Daniel's smile mocked her. 'Tonight? Who knows? Are you offering?'

  Crimson, she snapped: 'You've got to be kidding! I'm not into masochism.' She sat down in a chair and began to pour the tea. Daniel sat down on the couch and took the cup she handed him, sipping the tea thoughtfully.

  'What did you want to talk to me about?' Lindsay demanded.

  'Stephen's bankrupt.' The statement was flat and cool, and Lindsay heard it with shocked incredulity.

  'Bankrupt? But surely if he raises a loan to pay off the bank…'

  'Nobody with any commercial acumen would lend that firm a brass farthing,' Daniel said brutally, and she winced. 'Stephen owes more than he owns, for the past two years he has been running at a heavy loss and he's used up all his spare capital. He'll have to sell up, even the house will have to go.'

  'Oh, no!' Lindsay breathed, paling. 'Poor Alice…'

  'The firm does have some potential,' Daniel told her. 'It will need a large influx of capital to make it viable, but with the right management it could become profitable in a few years.'

  Lindsay looked at him with bitter anger. 'You, you mean?'

  'I could make something of it,' he agreed coolly, watching her stormy face, then added with a shrug: 'It would hardly be worth my while, though—I wouldn't get much of a return on my time, trouble and money.'

  She trembled with contempt, her green eyes shooting sparks at him. 'That's all you think about—making money!'

  'Not all,' he said in a silky voice, smiling. 'I might be persuaded to make an investment in your brother's firm on the right terms.'

  'What do you want? Blood?' Lindsay muttered scathingly, and he laughed.

  'No. You.'

  She almost dropped her cup and saucer. Slowly she put them back on to the tray, her eyes fixed on his bland face, her body rigid and chilled.

  'What's that suppose to mean?'

  'Don't pretend to be dumb, Lindsay, you know exactly what it means. You're even sexier than you were when I met you.' His assessing gaze moved down over her without haste and she felt her skin burn as though he was actually touching her. Her mouth went dry and a quiver of nervous reaction went through her. Daniel's eyes were undressing her, and she hated it and was excited by it all at the same time.

  'You lecher!' she burst out, her voice shaky. 'No way. You can forget that idea—I'd rather die!'

  'Would you? I wonder,' he said drily, and laughed, which made her feel about two inches high.

  Scrambling to her feet, she stammered: 'Get out of here before I lose my temper!'

  Daniel rose and she backed, very much aware that they were alone, her hasty movement making him smile in sardonic enjoyment. He strolled towards her and she looked around for something to hit him with if he touched her, but he pushed his hands into his pockets as he halted and tilted his black head to one side, amusement in his lean face.

  'I'll give you twenty-four hours to think my proposition over,' he told her as lazily as though it had been a formal business offer.

  'You've had my answer. I meant it.' She had to take a deep breath before she could answer him, she was so angry.

  His mouth twisted crookedly. 'It's a woman's privilege to change her mind.'

  'Not this woman. My mind's made up, it has been for two years, as far as you're concerned. I don't want to know about you.'

  There was a hint of cruelty about his tight smile, a brooding anger in the grey eyes. Daniel had not liked that. 'We'll see,' was all he said, though, and he walked past her without looking at her again.

  She stood there, frozen on the spot, and heard him open the front door and close it with a controlled quietness which was even more menacing than that look he had just given her. Daniel Randall was a man who enjoyed getting his own way, he was ruthless and determined, and when Lindsay walked out on their marriage she had offended him bitterly. He might still find her very attractive, but she couldn't avoid suspecting that revenge was an even more powerful motive for the proposition he had just offered her. He knew it would humiliate her to accept his terms, it had humiliated her merely to have them suggested to her, and Daniel wanted to make her pay for the humiliation she had once inflicted on him.

  She had often wondered if it hadn't been his ego which had pushed him into asking her to marry him in the first place. A man with Daniel's fierce desire for success would find it hard to take rejection in any shape or form, but particularly where a woman was concerned. The more she got to know him, the more she had realised how that drive to succeed dominated him. Opposition always flicked his ego raw. He was too clever to show it on the surface, he had learnt how to use his charm to get what he wanted, but during their marriage Lindsay had spent a lot of time watching him and she recognised the flicker of anger, the glimmer of hard impatience in his eyes, and she had soon noticed that he would go to any lengths to achieve his ends, use any means; force, charm, money, and especially his own sex appeal. Daniel knew he was attractive to women, damn him, she thought, running an angry hand through her hair.

  But if he thought for a minute that he could browbeat her by using her brother's situation to blackmail her, he was going to find out how wrong he was!

  I must talk to Stephen, she thought, going to the phone, then stopped, her hand on the receiver. Not yet, Stephen was in no state for that sort of conversation today. She would have to leave a frank discussion until he was more himself.

  She forced herself, instead, to do housework and shopping. It helped to turn her mind to more mundane things, the boredom of cleaning the flat and galloping around the supermarket with her trolley was an antidote to the hectic emotional impact of her clash with Daniel. She refused to think about him, she stared at baked beans and washing powder instead with a pretence of interest. The rain had stopped, the sky was a clear, washed blue from which the clouds slowly drifted during the late afternoon. By the time Aston rang her doorbell that evening, the weather was back to high summer.

  He looked at her cool, summery dress with a smile. 'You look delicious, what colour do you call that? Asparagus?'

  'Lime green, thank you,' Lindsay told him, but laughed. 'Will I need a jacket? What's it like out in the streets?'

  'Warm—you're fine as you are,' he assured her. 'I've booked a table at that brasserie where all the film stars go when they're in London, I thought you might enjoy spotting celebrities.'

  'How extravagant of you.' Lindsay said, closing the front door. 'It sounds marvellous, thank you.' They walked down, talking about the change in the weather.

  His hand touched her bare arm lightly. 'Did you have to use Judo on Daniel Randall, or did he go quietly?'

  'Don't let's talk about him.' Lindsay was trying to forget Daniel existed, she did not want to give Aston a blow-by-blow account of what Daniel had said to her.

  'That's fine by me,' said Aston with a wry glance. He was wearing a tailored linen suit, cream and very elegant, under which she saw a, dark brown shirt. He looked pretty good himself. 'Don't we make a handsome pair?' Lindsay asked, her green eyes teasing, and he grinned at her. Aston had a strong sense of humour.

  As they drove to the restaurant, she asked him: 'What exactly did Stephen tell you on the phone? How serious is his financial problem?'

  Aston sobered, staring at the road, his brows meeting. The gold-brown hair gleamed in the last rays of the sun, she saw the tips of his eyelashes glowing gilt too, as he lowered his eyes. His face was not striking, it had too much rugged strength for that, but it pleased her to look at him, his personality came though every time he smiled.

  'Bad, I'm afraid,' he said tersely.

  'Daniel said something about Stephen being bankrupt. Is it that bad?' Lindsay was nervous as she asked that, she hoped Aston would deny it, but he sighed and shot her a quick look.

  'You'll have to ask Stephen that yourself.'

  'Does that mean he is, but you'd rather not admit it?'

  'It means that Step
hen spoke to me in confidence and I can't repeat the details of what he told me.' Aston spoke gently but in a firm tone. 'I know you're very concerned, but the firm is Stephen's business, you really must talk to him, Lindsay.'

  She was quiet for a moment, then she said uncertainly, 'Did he ask you for help, Aston?' She saw his frown and added hurriedly: 'Please don't think I'm pressuring you—I have a reason for asking, believe me.' If Stephen had been desperate enough to ask Aston for help, Daniel might be telling the truth.

  Aston sighed. 'Purely as a hypothetical case, Lindsay, even if Stephen had asked me for help I wouldn't be in any position to give him the sort of help he would need if he was in danger of going bankrupt.' He spoke very slowly and carefully, choosing his words. 'My capital is all tied up in my shops, I don't have any spare money floating around.'

  'I understand,' Lindsay said flatly.

  'Randall would be a much better prospect,' said Aston, pulling up near the Mayfair brasserie at which they had booked a table. He turned to look at her, an arm draped over the wheel. 'He has the money, but Stephen would have to watch out for the strings attached to it.' 'Yes,' Lindsay agreed with bitterness.

  Aston stared at her.. 'And so would you, Lindsay. He struck me as a very possessive guy, he didn't like me at all, did he? For an ex-husband he shows far too much interest in you.' . He had said something like that to her already, she could see' her protests hadn't convinced him that she was indifferent to Daniel. Pushing a curling lock of her vivid hair from her flushed face, she said defiantly: 'Daniel Randall sees women as objects, and if they've belonged to him, they're his property even if he rarely sees them. His vanity wouldn't let him see them any other way. If he came on like a possessive husband in front of you, that was to make sure you know I'd been his…'