When Strangers Meet

by Kemp, Shirley

  ‘Marcus. Oh, Marcus.’ Huskily she murmured his name, willing him to solve the mystery.

  He growled deep in his throat. The crushing hold loosened and his hand touched against her throat, and brushed away the soft fabric of her blouse, baring her shoulder to his lips, which blazed a white heat against her skin. Buttons slid open to the touch of his long, lean fingers, revealing the aroused thrust of her breasts. He stopped kissing her to gaze at what lay bared, and slowly his hand caressed her, his darkly smouldering eyes lifting to hers, where no secrets remained.

  ‘Hayley.’ He murmured her name raggedly. ‘My sweet girl. If only you knew how much...’

  He was shaking his head, his expression almost sorrowful. He seemed to be moving away from her, the distance growing alarmingly.

  Hayley reached out and drew him back, her lips fastening on his, her hand covering the fingers which still lay against her breast. Her whole body burned with a feverish heat, trembled with a hungry desire that had her arching against him.

  He moaned and slid his arms about her, enveloping her in a gentle hold. His lips softened, the heat of passion receding as her trembling grew. Then he took his mouth away and pressed it against her cheek, whispering her name over and over against its softness.

  It was over, she knew with a sick sense of loss. Heaven had slipped from her grasp, but she couldn’t withdraw from him.

  It was he who gently disentangled himself from her, pulling her blouse over her breasts, and brushing her tumbled hair from her face, before tenderly cupping it between both his hands.

  His eyes, still smouldering faintly in the ashes of passion, held hers steadily.

  She gazed back in confusion, and said, like a sleep-walker returning to consciousness, ‘What happened?’

  ‘Looks as if we both got a little carried away.’ His deep voice held a tremor. He smiled and waited for her trembling response before giving a deep sigh and dropping his hands.

  He was back at the stove, reheating the kettle. His shoulders tensed and bunched as though with the remnants of emotion, and Hayley realised, with a little sense of shock, that he was nothing like as calm as he had appeared.

  She drew a little sobbing breath and said haltingly, her voice full of hurt and anger, ‘Did I f-fail some kind of...test?’

  His hands gripped the edge of the sink, and it was some seconds before he turned. There was a wry twist to his mouth.

  ‘No. The test was for me, and I almost failed.’

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  He shook his head with a sharp movement, like a dog dislodging an annoying fly.

  ‘Perhaps it’s better that way.’

  He didn’t finish his coffee, seeming suddenly anxious to leave.

  Hayley felt the same anxiety for him to be gone, so that she could examine her feelings, which were tumultuous...confused...a mixture of relief and awful humiliation. Had she been saved? Or rejected? Had she shown him too clearly how she’d felt about him and frightened him off? The sex he could take with equanimity. But perhaps now that he had recognised the feelings behind it, which she’d displayed all too obviously, it might have become an altogether different situation.

  As she rose to see him out he paused, looking down into her face with a worried frown between his brows. Hayley found it difficult to meet his gaze and dropped her head, letting her thick hair hide the riot of her feelings.

  ‘Are you still working for me?’ The question was unexpected and almost hesitant, and surprised her into looking up again.

  She felt a sharp stab of indignation. It hadn’t taken him long to come down to earth...back to the really important issues.

  ‘I don’t know. I haven’t had long enough to think,’ she said at last. ‘You said to answer by Monday.’

  ‘I said the next time we met,’ he insisted doggedly. ‘So do you want the job?’

  Hayley felt an almost hysterical urge to laugh. Nothing’s changed, she thought, a little ray of light piercing her gloom. Like this—irritable and persistent—she could handle him.

  She said in a burst of exasperation, ‘Well, yes, I do. But I can’t imagine why you still want me.’

  The answer he gave her was one which shouldn’t have surprised her. His reasoning was the same as it had always been.

  ‘I want a competent secretary to help me finish up the job of the mergers, preferably you, since you already know something of the work.’ He grimaced. ‘But if you’re not sure...’

  She was beginning to feel like a cat with nine lives. Each time he gave her a fresh start, she somehow managed to muck it up. But here he was giving her another chance. All in his own best interests, of course, but a chance none the less. It might be possible, after all, to paste back the pieces of her pride.

  ‘I’m sure,’ she said, with a feeling that she had managed to grasp something that had been slipping swiftly through her fingers. ‘Absolutely sure.’

  ‘Then that’s settled.’ He nodded in satisfaction. ‘Good!’

  That, it seemed, was the end of the conversation, so Hayley led the way through the short passageway and opened the front door, standing aside to let him out. As he passed she impulsively took his arm, and he turned to look down at her.

  Hardly knowing why she’d detained him, she was momentarily at a loss for words, then she said, in a low voice, ‘Marcus, will tonight cause a problem?’

  His broad chest rose and fell in a sigh. ‘No problem,’ he said with a wintry little smile. ‘I suppose it’s just been one of those days.’

  Her hand was still on his arm, her fingers curved against the hard muscle, and he looked down and then took it in his, lifting it slowly, turning the palm to his mouth in a brief kiss that curled her toes and made her glad she was leaning against the door.

  As he moved away she said, sounding husky, ‘Thanks for returning my handbag.’

  ‘That’s OK.’ She saw the gleam of his smile. ‘The memorable view alone was well worth the trouble.’

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  MARCUS, though friendly, had definitely reconstructed the barriers. In a way it was a relief, since Hayley hadn’t quite known what attitude to expect from him.

  His visit to the flat to return her handbag had served him a dual purpose, the most urgent of which, it appeared, had been to make sure of her agreement to go on doing the job of secretary.

  Had the lovemaking been something else, or part of a plan of persuasion? From his present demeanour, she would never know. And he would never know how close he’d come to defeating his object. Perhaps that was just as well.

  If they’d gone on to make love, she could never have worked for him again, and they would each have been the loser.

  The extra work brought by the mergers was mounting daily, which kept him in the office far more, taking a greater share of the work which was rightfully hers.

  Felicity came and went far more quickly these days, the periods behind the closed door of Marcus’s office growing shorter. The pouting, provocative smile seemed to be wearing a little thin, Hayley thought, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking. The thinning line of her mouth these days showed grim determination rather than defeat.

  And she still rang often, demanding to speak to Marcus, and was never refused. As Hayley put the calls through she heard the warmth of Marcus’s greeting, and felt the powerful sword-thrust of jealousy which hung like a cloud for hours afterwards.

  But, much to Hayley’s secret delight, a closer rapport seemed to be building between Marcus and herself. He apparently now viewed her more as an assistant than a secretary and often sought and considered her opinion, but, if anything, he was even more careful to keep his distance.

  He came into her office one morning, bringing Martin Lukes to introduce him to Hayley.

  ‘Martin is part of the small management team I’ve set up to co-ordinate the finances of the mergers,’ Marcus explained.

  Hayley looked up and smiled, having no trouble recognising the blond young man who had startled her on
her first day at one of the initial merger meetings. And he just as obviously remembered her.

  ‘We should be seeing quite a bit of each other over the next few months.’ He shook her hand warmly and grinned. ‘I still can’t believe my luck. And to think I’ll get paid as well.’

  Marcus’s smile faded a little. He said ironically, ‘Let’s hope you still feel lucky when you see the amount of work involved. I don’t think you’ll have much time to spare for flirtation with Miss Morgan.’

  Hayley shot him a surprised glance, wondering why he’d felt it necessary to issue the unsubtle warning. She was beginning, at last, to gain some perspective on Frank Heaton’s behaviour, and felt in no danger from the friendly young accountant. She wished Marcus had left it to her to give any warnings that might become necessary. She was half tempted to make a note to mention it to him later, until she saw his face. He was obviously in no mood to be tackled today—not even diplomatically.

  Martin Lukes coloured faintly under the cool, steady gaze of the blue eyes.

  ‘No offence intended,’ he said, sounding embarrassed. ‘Just my idea of a joke.’

  Marcus grimaced. ‘Keep them for after working hours.’

  Some of the frost remained in his voice as he said to Hayley, ‘Make a start on the list of meetings to be arranged. I’ll be back after lunch to discuss them.’

  He left without a hint of the smile she’d grown accustomed to receiving, making her wonder how she’d managed to earn a share of his irritation.

  He came back later, less irascible.

  ‘With the exception of one, which should be here in a day or so, I’ve finally had all of the reports,’ he said with a sigh of satisfaction. ‘Now we can begin to tie up the loose ends.’

  He put a number of files on her desk and sat down. ‘Fit them in with the rest in the schedule for next week and begin arranging the meetings.’

  Hayley frowned. ‘I don’t think we’ll get them all into one week. Some of the companies are quite a distance away, and travelling will take up a lot of time.’

  He said bracingly, ‘Do your best. It might be worth while staying away from home a couple of nights to cut time and save going over the same ground more than once.’

  Hayley gave a little gasp and looked directly up at him, momentarily distracted by the handsome lines of the face she had come to love. She wished, with a painful tug at her heart-strings, that she could see some answering interest in his expression. But there was only wry amusement.

  He cast her an ironic glance from beneath thick brown lashes, causing her heart to stumble once or twice as her velvet-brown eyes became meshed in his clear blue gaze.

  ‘Any problems with that?’

  Hayley swallowed and dragged her mind back to what he had said. ‘I...I don’t think...so.’

  ‘You don’t sound convinced.’ His brows lowered into a frown. ‘Hayley! Is there a problem?’

  The question was specific, she knew. What answer was he expecting?

  She shook her head. ‘None that I can think of.’

  Except that she’d be with him somewhere, staying overnight, probably eating dinner, maybe even sleeping in adjoining rooms, which could become another form of agony if she allowed her imagination to run riot.

  ‘Don’t you think you can trust me?’ he asked, surprising her with the gentleness of the query.

  She coloured and bit her lip, finding herself unable to meet the unexpected warmth in his eyes. ‘Of course.’

  He nodded, and said a little ironically, ‘Well, thanks for that, anyway.’

  Hayley wondered what his reaction would be if he knew the real question was—could she trust herself?

  With a hint of sudden and inexplicable malice she asked, ‘Do you think Miss Braun will understand?’

  His eyes narrowed, making them unreadable. ‘Why shouldn’t she? This is, after all, merely business.’

  That’s put me in my place, Hayley thought wryly. Which was the same place as that occupied by any other piece of office equipment...where it would be most useful! He couldn’t have put it more plainly.

  ‘So it is,’ she agreed, forcing a smile. ‘Shall we leave the long-distance meetings to the last? Or will it interfere with any weekend plans you and Miss Braun might have?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so,’ he said. ‘After this weekend Felicity isn’t going to be around for a while. She’s beginning a new film.’

  Hayley bit her lip to stop herself smiling.

  He gave her a look that had her wondering uncomfortably whether he could read her mind, and his unexpected smile showed the glint of white teeth. ‘So arrange them any way you like. I’m all yours.’

  * * *

  Marcus seemed withdrawn and a little cool as, the following Monday, they set out for the first in the series of meetings.

  Hayley, seated in the front passenger seat of his roomy limousine, wondered at the breathlessness that overtook her as he settled himself in beside her.

  He was a big man, and his broad shoulders, hard-muscled but not heavy, brushed against hers as he fastened his seat belt. His aura filled the confined space, making her almost dizzy with its headiness.

  Almost as an afterthought, he turned to make sure she had fastened her belt, and made a soft tutting sound of impatience as he discovered her sitting as though lost in a dream.

  Her breathlessness became near-suffocation as he leaned across her to fasten her belt. His handsome head was close to hers, his thick red-brown hair brushing lightly against her cheek, creating eddies of guilty sensation which coursed through her sensitised nerves and made her wonder how he could fail to be aware of her disturbance.

  Lost in her study of the intriguing nape of his neck, she must have leaned towards him, for as his head came up it caught her chin a glancing blow, hard enough to bring the tears to her eyes and cause her head to snap back against the headrest.

  ‘God! Hayley, I’m sorry!’ He turned to cup her face in both his hands, looking worriedly into her eyes.

  She met his appalled blue gaze in a kind of haze, felt his fingers touching tenderly against her smarting chin, brushing the shocked tears from her cheeks, and grew weak, her body slumping against the leather seat.

  ‘You’re not going to faint on me, are you?’ he asked anxiously. ‘Lord! What a clumsy idiot I am. I could have knocked you out.’

  Painfully aware that it was more her fault than his, she felt embarrassed by his apology. Rousing herself, with an effort, she brushed his hands away, unable to bear the unnerving sensations he was creating.

  ‘It was only a bump. I’ll survive.’ Her voice sounded thick and strange, muffled by the faint buzzing in her ears. ‘If you’ll give me a minute to recover.’

  He released the seatbelts and drew her towards him, resting her head in the hollow of his shoulder. ‘Take as long as you want.’

  For a second she stiffened, in response to the fear which hadn’t quite vanished. And now there was a new fear: that of letting him see again her stark need of him.

  Involuntarily she tried to pull away, but with a soft sound of exasperation he drew her head back against his chest, where she lay listening to the strong rhythm of his heart, which seemed to beat a little faster as she nestled against him.

  The warm comfort of his arms was a thrill, but one she knew would become a torment if prolonged. After a few moments, reluctantly, she withdrew.

  He looked down at her questioningly. ‘Feeling better?’

  She smiled inwardly, ironically aware that there were two answers to that question. Yes and no. Not trusting herself to speak, she answered him with a nod.

  ‘Am I permitted to see the damage?’ He tilted her chin with a gentle finger, careful not to hurt. His face was close and she saw the thick lashes fanned across his lean cheeks as he peered closely. ‘Hmm. You’ll be lucky not to have a bruise.’

  He dipped his head, and Hayley felt the touch of his lips against her chin. She gave a little gasp and unthinkingly put her hand softly ag
ainst his cheek. He made a sharp sound and his eyes captured hers, almost drowning her in the depth of blue, reminding her of that other time she had looked into them like this.

  Her lips parted on a sigh, smothered by the sudden touch of his mouth against hers as he kissed her lightly, undemandingly, giving her a chance to pull away if she wished. But she didn’t. Her will-power seemed to have deserted her, sapped by the familiar yearning sensations that stirred her deeply. The touch of his mouth was warm, soft, almost tender. It took her breath away, and when he lifted his head eventually she was speechless.

  ‘Not a soothing poultice,’ he said with a grin. ‘But the best I can do in the circumstances. Let me know if you need a second application.’

  Suddenly her breath returned, and with it a touch of irritation. ‘Sometimes, Marcus Maury...’ she said with asperity, and then stopped, lost for words to convey the mixture of her feelings for him.

  ‘I know. You could hate me.’ He touched the tip of her nose with a light finger. ‘But the girl loves me really.’

  It was said lightly, teasingly, and he wasn’t even looking at her as he fixed his seatbelt again. If he had, he might have seen her stricken look and been in no doubt that his joke had hit the nail painfully on the head.

  * * *

  As it turned out, it wasn’t an entirely happy week, with Marcus at his most irascible, wearing Hayley’s patience almost threadbare. The easy rapport which had become established between them seemed to have vanished into thin air, to be replaced by an uncomfortable tension, an awareness that vibrated uneasily in the air, making it almost impossible to relax in his company.

  He drove her home in the evenings in almost total silence, his gaze turned directly ahead, appearing deep in thought, frowns of irritation forming and reforming on his brow, following the obvious trend of his thoughts.

  Hiding her sighs, Hayley gazed out of the window, catching a glimpse now and then of her own reflection revealed against the changing shades of the landscape. The bruise had developed on her chin, and, fingering it absently, she wondered if she had imagined the tender moments of his remorse.