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  Nicholas was sitting, staring in front of him, his shoulders slumped in a curiously defeated attitude. For once the outer shell had cracked and she was seeing the real man underneath, a man who, for all his strength, was capable of hurt and as vulnerable as anyone else. But had her rejection of him hit at anything more than his pride?

  'Goodnight, Nicholas,' she managed to say.

  He straightened and turned to her. The grey eyes raked her figure lazily. 'Sweet dreams in that virgin bed of yours, Kate,' he said, and raised his glass to her in a mock toast. As she turned to go he pulled the whisky bottle nearer to him and she heard the sound of the glass being refilled. There was no more to be said tonight. Perhaps there would never be anything more said between them. Without another word she left him.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Next day as she set off for the office Kate blanked her mind to the events of the previous evening. She had spent a restless night turning over and analysing every word, every look that Nicholas had directed at her, and she had to admit she was none the wiser as to what he really thought and why he had acted the way he had. With another man she might have put his violent reaction to the sight of her in Jeremy's arms, supposedly enjoying his kisses, as jealousy, but that could hardly be the case. Disgust at the morals of a woman who went after a married man? It was possible, but unlikely, for Nicholas was no saint himself and in any case was barely concerned with the private lives of his staff. There seemed to be no solution, and as it was hardly likely that the man himself intended to supply one she supposed the best thing to do was to leave the matter alone and hope that everything would blow over.

  Nicholas was nowhere to be seen when she opened her office door, and she was faintly relieved. At least she would have the chance to pitch into some work before she encountered him. She might even manage to meet him with some semblance of normality. She began to open the post, keeping a weather eye on the door through which her employer would enter.

  As luck would have it he arrived just as she was querying delivery of a large bouquet of flowers.

  'No mistake, miss, here's the card with your name on it.' The boy thrust the square of cardboard at her and departed, whistling cheerfully, leaving Kate staring down at the message which read, 'Thank you for a delightful evening—Jeremy.'

  Fury blinded her to anything else and she made no resistance when Nicholas reached for the card and read it. 'Not terribly original,' he commented, 'but then that's hardly Edwards' line.'

  'Or yours either,' she retorted, taking notice of him for the first time. 'I shall send the flowers back.'

  'Fine words, with the delivery boy halfway to his next call.'

  She picked up the flowers and rammed them, heads down, into the wastepaper basked. 'Perhaps that'll convince you that I'm not interested in Jeremy Edwards or his flowers.'

  'Empty gestures rarely impress me,' he said coldly, turning to the door of his office. 'Besides, it's not me you have to convince, is it? It's yourself.' With that he disappeared and slammed the door behind him.

  A night's sleep did not seem to have done him much good either, Kate reflected as she tore Jeremy's card across and added it to the mess in the wastepaper basket. If indeed Nicholas had had any sleep. Although he was his usual immaculate self, there was a tired, drawn look to his face as if he had stayed up too late with only the whisky bottle for company. She wondered if he would bite her head off if she suggested black coffee and decided to make it for him anyway. At least it would show that she at least was not sulking after last night. She took in the coffee pot and a cup and saucer and retreated as noiselessly as she had come when he gave her only a curt 'Thank you' for her trouble.

  The phone rang as she returned to her office, and she picked it up and gave her name.

  'Did you get the flowers?'

  It was Jeremy. Kate suppressed her first instinct to slam down the receiver. He would only ring again if she did. 'Yes, and they've gone straight in the wastepaper basket along with the snide comment that you sent with them.'

  'But—'

  'Get this clear once and for all, Jeremy Edwards. I was fool enough to fall for you once, but I never make the same mistake twice, particularly not with men like you. I don't know what the idea was in sending me flowers, but whatever it was, it didn't work.'

  'It got us talking again.' The self-congratulation in his tone was almost more than she could bear. 'Calm down, Kate. Be reasonable.'

  'I'm perfectly reasonable!' She bit the words out. Behind her she heard Nicholas' door open and a prickle running the length of her spine warned her of his presence only inches away from her. 'And I've better things to do with my time than waste it on you. Once and for all, Jeremy, I'm not interested in you. Save the sweet talk for your wife!' Without waiting to hear his reply she slammed the phone down on its rest and turned, her cheeks flushed with temper, to confront the major problems in her life.

  Why did he have to set her senses afire every time she saw him? Even after what had obviously been a hard night his vibrant air of male attraction caught and held her a subject to his will. She fought against the magnetic pull as she met his cool gaze and launched into speech out of pure self-defence.

  'Do you have to listen to private conversations?'

  'Do you have to take private phone calls at the office? If you're going to have tiffs with your lovers, I suggest you keep them for outside office hours,' he told her. 'I pay you to work for me between nine and five. After that your time's your own.'

  'I'll remember that in future. And for your information, I was not having a tiff, as you call it, with Jeremy. I was telling him to get lost for good and leave me alone.'

  'Can't stand the pace, I suppose?' He laughed harshly and the sound jarred on her ears. 'Do what the hell you like. As you're fond of reminding me, it's no concern of mine. But do it outside office hours in future.'

  There was no point in arguing with him. 'Yes, Mr Blake,' she said through gritted teeth.

  If he noted the challenge in her tone he nevertheless ignored it and, the subject closed, reverted to business. 'Get me Mr Cox's file, will you? I'm seeing him today.' She found it and handed it to him without a word and he walked back to his room. At the door he turned again and instructed her casually. 'Oh, ring Miss Kendall, would you, and tell her I'll pick her up at seven tonight?' Without waiting for a response he went into his office and the door closed behind him like a slap in the face for Kate.

  'Yes, sir. No, sir. Three bags full, sir,' she muttered viciously to herself as she banged the receiver down after completing his instructions. He had done it on purpose, of course, just to demonstrate that while she was clearly incapable of managing her private life and keeping it nicely separated from her business life, he could manage it with ease and fully intended to continue doing so. As she went about her work that morning she felt as if she had never hated anyone with as much concentrated loathing as Nicholas Blake.

  He remained closeted in his room for the rest of the day and she was not sorry to leave at five o'clock without seeing him again. Perhaps by tomorrow they might both have cooled down slightly and normal relations could be resumed. But somehow she doubted it. She and Nicholas Blake seemed to be on a collision course which could lead only to further and more acrimonious clashes of personality. And the fact that she loved him one moment and hated him the next helped her not the slightest.

  Nicholas might have been out on the town with Diana, but it seemed to have done little to restore his temper. Next morning when she entered his office in response to his buzzer, pencil and notebook in hand, he looked distinctly disagreeable. Perhaps Diana had at last indicated her disapproval of being picked up and put down when he felt like it. Kate fervently hoped so.

  Whatever he had been working on, it did not look as if he had been successful. Screwed-up balls of paper lay scattered on the floor, papers were in a wild state of confusion instead of their generally orderly piles on his desk and Nicholas, his dark hair tousled as if he had been raking through i
t with his hands, was considerably less than his usual calm, decisive self.

  He began to dictate a letter, then, after several false starts, broke off and impatiently wrenched his tie away from his neck as if he found it constricting. He got up from behind the desk and, thrusting aside the chair, strode to the window where he paced moodily up and down, staring at the scene outside like an animal confined to a cage. Kate watched him silently, not daring to interrupt him in such an uncertain mood, and just hoping that she would be able to get out of the room unscathed. It seemed more than likely that he would vent his temper on her.

  He stopped suddenly, apparently coming to a decision of some kind. He turned to her. 'Enough's enough. I'm not in the mood for work today. Have I any appointments?'

  Startled at this uncharacteristic behaviour from someone that she would normally have thought of as almost a workaholic until now, Kate took a second or two to recall his engagements for the day. 'A couple. Nothing urgent.'

  'Put them off,' he instructed her, and followed her into her office, standing by her side while she picked up the phone and did so.

  'All settled,' she told him a few minutes later, and waited to be informed of his further plans for the day.

  'Good. What I need is some fresh air.'

  She supposed she was tempting him to bite her head off, but asked the question anyway. 'An overdose of stuffy nightclubs?' she enquired sweetly.

  'An overdose of foolish women, and one in particular.' He eyed her sourly.

  Had he taken the plunge and asked Diana to marry him last night? Surely she could not have refused him if he had done? Or had she accepted him and his temper was the natural reaction of a bachelor who had finally allowed the shackles to be put on him and intended to be led to the altar? Something had caused his unpredictable behaviour this morning, but there was no way of knowing what it was. At least she could restore her own shattered feelings in the peaceful atmosphere of the office with her employer elsewhere.

  But it seemed that that was not to be her lot. Nicholas picked up her coat from the stand and thrust it at her. 'Put it on,' he said. 'You're coming with me.'

  'But—' The unexpectedness of his words left her at a loss for an answer.

  'That's an order, not an invitation, so don't make any excuses.'

  He swept her along at his side, one powerful hand under her elbow, almost as if he expected her to take to her heels and run to escape the ordeal of spending the day with him. In spite of herself she could not control the quiver that ran through her at his touch. Her head could never control her senses where Nicholas was concerned; there was no way she could resist the physical thrill his presence gave her.

  She was safely installed in the passenger seat of the Porsche and they had left the traffic-packed City streets behind before he deigned to speak to her. 'You're very trusting to let me kidnap you.'

  'I didn't have much to say in the matter, did I?' she retorted. 'I suppose you'd have slung me over your shoulder and carried me off bodily if I'd complained.'

  'Something like that.' He laughed with genuine amusement and she relaxed slightly. 'Are you scared?'

  'No,' she said composedly. 'I've survived you in your worst moods. I suppose I'll come through this one. I'm just surprised that you bothered to bring me along when you obviously class me as one of the foolish women you've decided you dislike so much.'

  'Not foolish, Kate,' he corrected her. 'Pigheaded, stubborn, quick-tempered and many other things besides, but I'd never call you foolish.'

  You could hardly call that a compliment, Kate thought, yet her heart leapt at his words as if he had handed her a bouquet. 'I'm glad to hear that I have so many of your own sterling qualities,' she said lightly.

  'Like attracts like. A few clashes are inevitable.'

  Was that how she saw the row that they had had over Jeremy after the dinner party? she wondered. But she knew better than to remind him about that subject. Nicholas' ill humour seemed to be fading with every smile that passed, but of all things calculated to bring it back in full force she knew instinctively that Jeremy's name was the likeliest to set off another explosion.

  She changed the subject swiftly. 'I don't object to being whisked out of the office, but I would like to know where I'm going.'

  'It'll take just over an hour to the coast. We'll stop for lunch on the way. Will that suit you?'

  'Fine.' She was slightly amused that it occurred to him to consult her for once.

  His eyes were on the road ahead, his strong hands superbly competent at the wheel, but he had registered her reaction and there was a hint of devilry in his smile as he said by way of explanation, 'Long experience of female shilly-shallying has decided me to make up my mind for both of us when I'm out with a woman. Take it as a compliment that I offered you the choice.'

  'And dared me to challenge it?'

  'Knowing your fondness for opposing me just about every time you open your mouth I'm surprised you didn't.'

  She laughed and refused to rise to his baiting.

  'Well, am I forgiven?' he asked.

  'For what?'

  'Behaving like a bear with a sore head for the last two days. My only excuse is that I felt like one.'

  If it was intended as an apology she had heard better. But Nicholas Blake was not the sort of man to apologise for his actions. It was a statement of fact and she could take it or leave it. 'Let's forget the last few days,' she said.

  'If you like.' And the subject was closed, although the awareness of what had happened during and after the dinner party lay uneasily between them for a while, constricting conversation.

  Then, imperceptibly, Kate relaxed again. Nicholas, with his black mood thrown off and determined to charm her, was an entertaining companion as they lunched in a small country pub on sandwiches and apple pie with cream, washed down by draughts of cider. When they set off again it was hard to recall that there had ever been any uneasiness between them as they chatted happily about every subject under the sun. Kate discovered they both had a passion for classical music, a dislike of modern novels and a love of travelling, although whereas Nicholas had covered almost all the world in his trips abroad, her journeys had been strictly the armchair kind. It was interesting to find out more about the private Nicholas Blake, so different from the cool, slightly detached business brain of the office. The time flashed by in his company and she came to with a start when they reached the small coast town which was their destination.

  Nicholas parked the car and they made for the beach, deserted so early in the season, for although the pale spring sun shone brightly enough, a keen wind blew gustily in their faces as they walked along. The air was fresh and salty, bracing after the petrol fumes of London, and Kate drew in great gulps of it, delighting in it all.

  'Enjoying yourself?' They had stopped to look out to sea where some brightly-painted fishing boats were already taking advantage of the incoming tide. He put his arm casually round her shoulders and she did not move away.

  'Yes.' Why should she deny it? A stolen day in his company was bliss, even more precious because it would never happen again. No doubt Diana would see to that. She turned and smiled up at him.

  'It's the first time in months I've taken a day off.'

  'You should do it more often,' she told him, giving way to the impulse to order him about. 'You don't relax enough.'

  'Oh? I thought you were the one who accused me of wasting too much time on the pursuit of pleasure?'

  She laughed. 'Isn't this better than a stuffy nightclub?'

  'Yes.' He was studying her, not the scenery, and she knew it. 'And the company's better too.'

  She moved abruptly away from him, but he followed her, frowning. 'What's the matter?'

  She thrust her hands deep into the pockets of her coat and turned to face him. 'Nothing. It's just that there's no need to flirt with me. I'm not one of your girlfriends, remember?'

  'I'm well aware of that.' His hands moved out to grasp her and held her facing him,
unable to escape his scrutiny. He studied her closely for a while, almost as if memorising her features. 'You're not like any girl I've ever known,' he said, suddenly serious.

  Kate gave a shaky laugh, knowing she could not take much more of this. 'Oh, I know I'm not beautiful.'

  'As if that mattered!'

  But it did matter to him, she thought. He liked his women beautiful, not brainy. He preferred pretty dolls prepared to adore him blindly and not a girl whose best feature was a pair of dark brown eyes and who had a tendency to answer him back. What chance would she stand against any one of them? What hope could there be when Diana had scooped the field?

  'I thought most men liked beautiful women,' she said lightly.

  'Most men do.' He pulled her closer to him. 'When it suits me, though, I'm capable of looking beneath the surface.'

  'Meaning?'

  'It takes more to really attract me than conventional good looks, although I admit I appreciate beauty as much as any man.'

  She could well endorse that statement! Although what he saw in Diana beyond her pretty face, she could not tell. 'So?' she asked him.

  'There's passion underneath that layer of ice that you like to assume when I'm around. Don't bother to deny it, Kate. I can tell from the way you've responded to me on the occasions when you've let your guard slip.'

  She was slightly breathless with the heady sensation of being near him, held against that hard, masculine body and conscious of no desire to break free of him. Her brain told her she was heading for certain disaster if she stayed in his arms, but there was no way she could tear herself away from him. 'You're an attractive man, I'll admit it. I can imagine there are very few women who wouldn't respond to you physically if you looked their way.'

  'And that's all.'

  'That's all,' she said firmly. Did he really expect her to give him the satisfaction of hearing her say that she loved him? What kind of fool would she make of herself if she did?

  The grey eyes searched her face and she looked away, scared that he might read the truth there. 'So you won't take it any further?'