Dark Encounter Page 3

  'He blamed me for every single thing that went wrong,' she said indignantly. 'And he couldn't resist making sarcastic comments about anything I did to try and help.'

  'He does sound rather an ill-mannered character, dear,' her aunt agreed. 'But I expect he was worried about his car and getting it on the road again.' Aunt Meg always liked to think the best of everyone and, true to form, it was not long before she sprang to the stranger's defence.

  'That's no excuse for bad manners.'

  'No, dear, but you did say he seemed to be in a terrible hurry,' Aunt Meg persisted. 'And it can't have been pleasant coping with an accident to his car in weather like this.'

  'I rather thought I coped with it,' Kate objected. 'I drove him to find a garage, which was remarkably kind of me considering how disagreeable he was and that the accident was all the fault of his dangerous driving.'

  'And that's another thing,' her aunt continued calmly. 'Men do so like to be in command of the situation. I expect he resented having to rely on a female to help him.'

  'Oh, he did,' said Kate, recalling the stranger's fury as she attempted to calm him down.

  'Well, there you are. You can't really blame the poor man if he lost his temper a little.'

  'Poor man!' Kate snorted. 'He should have thanked his lucky stars that I was prepared to help him. Aunt Meg, have you never heard of Women's Lib?'

  'Yes, and a lot of nonsense it is too,' her aunt told her firmly. 'As I'm sure you'll find out for yourself soon enough when you've a man of your own to care for.'

  'I'll cross that bridge when I come to it,' Kate said hastily, trying to sound casual and wondering how to steer the conversation away from a discussion of her marriage prospects. Aunt Meg had married young and, having enjoyed over forty years of married bliss with Uncle Walter, never hesitated to recommend marriage as an ideal state. Kate knew that the fact that she had reached the advanced age of twenty-four without yet having contemplated marriage to any one of the young men she had been out with was a great disappointment to her aunt. Thank goodness she hadn't written to tell her about Jeremy's proposal.

  'Don't think I don't approve of young girls training for a career and getting out to see the world a little,' Aunt Meg went on. 'But I know there's no job anywhere to compare with looking after your husband. And children too, if you're lucky.' Aunt Meg's one regret was that she had never been able to have a family. Kate had always suspected, from the keen interest she had shown in her over the years, that Aunt Meg had come to look upon her as the daughter she had never had.

  'Aunt Meg, I am not, positively not, going to debate the role of women in society with you.' She smiled affectionately at the older woman. 'We'd only end up going round in circles the way we usually do. You can make any excuse you like for that horrid man and I won't contradict you. I'm just relieved to be here at last and to see you again.'

  Successfully sidetracked by Kate's last remark, Aunt Meg looked pleased. 'It's good of you to come and visit me, dear, although what on earth you'll find to do here I really don't know.'

  'Don't worry, Aunt Meg. Peace and quiet will be fine,' Kate assured her. 'A few long country walks, lots of your good cooking, and, most important, a chance to recover from being worked to death at the office.'

  'And how will your boss manage without you?'

  'Mr Edwards? Oh, he'll get by, I expect.' Kate shrugged, wondered for a brief moment whether to conceal her resignation, then decided there was no point in keeping quiet about it. She didn't like the thought of responding with a tissue of lies to Aunt Meg's kindly queries about her work and how she was liking it. 'Actually, I gave my notice in last week, Aunt Meg. I'll be looking for another job when I get back to London, but I'd been overdoing it a bit and I decided to give myself a good break first. There won't be any problems about finding something—trained secretaries are still in high demand, thank goodness.' She changed the subject swiftly, hoping to avoid awkward questions about her reasons for leaving- her present job. 'At least I'll be able to help you with the housework and let you have a rest for a while, won't I?'

  'There's no need to be worrying about that,' her aunt said firmly. 'You're here for a holiday. Anyway, it's only in the summer that I'm run of my feet looking after the tourists. It's quite amazing how many of them we get in such a small village. I usually have one of the girls from the village to help out with the cooking and cleaning at the height of the season and generally we manage things very well between us. Out of season I don't bother too much. I don't actually bar the door to visitors, but I'm lucky if I see a strange face from one month to the next at this time of year.'

  As if to give the lie to her words there was a sudden, insistent ring on the doorbell. Aunt Meg glanced at the clock, then started to her feet looking puzzled. 'Who on earth can that be at this time of night?' she wondered, and left the room to find out. Kate heard the front door open and shut and then the sound of voices in the hall.

  'If you'd like to put your cases over there—' Aunt Meg sounded more than a little flustered. 'Of course you will realise that I don't really cater for guests out of season. But the rooms are all ready and it won't take me long to make up a bed for you.' A doubtful note crept into her voice and Kate wondered if she was having second thoughts about accommodating the unexpected arrival. 'Perhaps you'd prefer me to show you the room before you make up your mind?'

  'I hardly think that will be necessary. I'm sure everything will be fine. I'm very grateful to you for putting me up at such short notice,' came a masculine voice reassuring her.

  It was a voice which carried a note of confident assurance. A voice that Kate recognised only too easily, although she had heard it for the first time only three hours or so before. She put her empty tray on the floor beside her and got hurriedly to her feet, hoping against hope that she was wrong. Surely he wouldn't plague her here too? But the tall figure entering the room in the wake of her aunt was unmistakable.

  'Kate, this gentleman is stranded in the village for the night, so he'll be staying here. Mr Blake, this is my niece, Kate, who is on holiday and visiting me. She—'

  'Miss Sherwood and I already know each other,' he interposed smoothly. His expression did not suggest that he was in any way overjoyed to renew his acquaintance with her.

  Not unnaturally Aunt Meg jumped to the wrong conclusion. 'That's nice,' she said cheerfully. 'Isn't that a coincidence? I suppose you met in London?'

  'No. We met on the road to Westford, Aunt Meg,' Kate said with icy calm. 'This gentleman is the one I was telling you about, whose car went into the ditch.' If looks could have killed, she thought, he'd be lying dead at my feet by now instead of staring at me as if I'd just crawled out from under a stone.

  There was no support forthcoming from Aunt Meg, who seemed to be completely overwhelmed by the advent of such an unexpected visitor. 'You must be frozen,' she exclaimed in horrified tones. 'You must get by the fire and get warm. Here, let me take your coat. It can dry by the kitchen range while I'm getting your room ready for you.'

  He shrugged off his wet overcoat and handed it to Aunt Meg with a brief word of thanks.

  'I'll come and help you, Aunt Meg,' Kate offered hastily, appalled at the prospect of being left to make polite conversation with their guest.

  'No, dear, thanks all the same. Pour Mr Blake a glass of whisky, would you? It's the best cure I know for the cold and there's a bottle over there in the cupboard.' Promising not to be long, Aunt Meg left the room.

  Alone with Kate, he walked over to the fire and stood, hands outstretched, gazing down at the flames. He seemed lost in thought and quite oblivious of her presence. She took the opportunity to study him more closely.

  She had to concede to herself that he was a man whom most women would find attractive, despite, or perhaps because of, his general air of being someone who knew exactly what he wanted out of life and was used to acquiring it, whatever the odds. Well over six feet tall, his formal grey suit served only to emphasise his height and his lean, powerfu
l figure. It was hard to guess his age, but she judged him to be somewhere in his late thirties, although there was, as yet, no hint of grey in his dark hair. A firm chin, with a hint of obstinacy about the mouth. And his eyes were—

  His eyes were a glacial shade of grey, she discovered, and could convey a freezing stare of displeasure.

  'I hope you'll recognise me if we ever have the misfortune to meet again.'

  It appeared that he had decided to acknowledge her existence again, if only to rebuke her for staring at him. Kate struggled for composure. Why was it that he always seemed to catch her out?

  'I'm sorry,' she stumbled weakly in an effort to apologise. 'I really didn't mean—I—'

  'What about that glass of whisky your aunt so kindly offered me?' he asked, brushing aside her feeble attempts to excuse her behaviour with a brief, authoritative wave of his hand. 'I rather think I deserve a stiff drink after all I've had to suffer tonight.'

  'I'll get you some.' Kate ignored the gibe and crossed the room to find him the drink. As she stretched up to open the cupboard door she could feel his gaze upon her and she was suddenly aware that Aunt Meg's dressing-gown, which she had been forced to wear until she had time to unpack her own, was scarcely an adequate covering. Aunt Meg was a tiny woman, barely five foot tall, and what had reached to a respectable, below-the-knee length on her barely stretched to mid-thigh on Kate, five foot seven in her stockinged feet and built on more generous lines. Still, after that had happened, she could hardly suppose that he saw her in any other light than that of a nuisance. She found the bottle of whisky and poured a liberal amount into a tumbler for him.

  'Would you like some water with this?'

  'No, thanks.'

  As she offered him the glass her fingers brushed against his and she recoiled slightly.

  She hoped that he hadn't noticed the action, but this man noticed everything.

  'You're quite safe for the moment,' he told her nastily. 'I admit that I wanted nothing more than to wring your neck a little while ago, but, fortunately for you, the impulse seems to have passed.' He took a long drink of the whisky and then set the glass down. 'I usually try to remember my manners—even in the company of overgrown schoolgirls such as yourself.'

  Kate glared at him, her fear of him momentarily forgotten. 'I'm twenty-four.'

  'Indeed?' His tone suggested faint disbelief.

  She had never met anyone who could knock the wind out of her sails so successfully. She retreated to her armchair by the side of the fire and fought to keep her temper. There was a brief silence and she was conscious that he was studying her, his piercingly critical gaze probing every part of her, from the top of her tousled chestnut hair to her long, bare legs. His glance lingered on the neckline of her gown, loosely tied and giving a sight of the creamy curve of her throat and the shadowy promise of her breasts.

  'My apologies,' he said. His eyes mocked her harshly. 'I can see now that I was mistaken.'

  She had feigned indifference to his scrutiny, but, at his words, moved nervously in her chair, drawing the gown more firmly round her. The derisive light in his eyes showed that he had noted the action.

  'I did say that you were safe for the moment,' he reminded her softly. 'Are you scared I might demand compensation for all the trouble you've caused me?'

  'I'm sorry about your car,' Kate muttered.

  'So you should be. But having my car out of action for God knows how long is a mere trifle compared with the fact that it's all due to you that I've missed an important business meeting, which may have cost me thousands of pounds.'

  Kate had had enough of apologising. She'd made the effort, but it seemed that he was ignoring the gesture. She couldn't help feeling that, if he'd missed his meeting, it served him right. She gave him a sweet smile and pointed out, reasonably enough, 'Considering the rate you were travelling at, it strikes me you were in danger of missing your meeting anyway. If you'd started off in Plenty of time I don't, suppose any of this would have happened.'

  'That's got nothing at all to do with it.'

  She ignored him and continued defiantly, 'And it's no use demanding any compensation, because I haven't got any money.'

  His smile gave her a sudden feeling of unease. 'Did I say anything about money? There's such a thing as payment in kind.'

  What did he mean? Kate had a notion that it might be safer not to stay around to find out. This conversation was getting decidedly out of hand. Somehow she managed to get to her feet. 'I think I'd better go and see if my aunt wants me to help her. If you'll excuse me, Mr Blake—'

  'Running away from me?' he mocked her. 'You know your aunt said she didn't need any help.' He was standing in front of her, blocking her way to the door.

  'Will you let me pass, please?' she asked, and made to sidestep him and reach the door. In her haste to get away from him she forgot the abandoned tray lying on the floor and, catching her foot on its edge, would have fallen if a strong grip had not caught her and held her up.

  'You didn't answer my question,' he told her, tightening his hold on her and drawing her nearer to him without apparent effort despite her almost frantic struggles to be set free. His face was only inches from hers and it was a disturbing closeness. 'Don't you think you ought to say something?' he taunted her softly, and, as she gazed helplessly at him, her lips parted for an indignant reply, he bent his head towards her and kissed her hard.

  For a brief instant of stunned shock Kate remained quiescent in his arms. Then, as the urgent pressure of his mouth on hers increased, she fought desperately to escape from him. But it was no use; he would set her free when it suited him and not before, and he was determined to punish her. His arms felt like steel bands around her, tightening, mocking her attempts to break free as he gathered her still closer, moulding her to him and making her aware of the hard, unyielding strength of his body. His lips on hers were compelling, demanding a response which she fought hard to refuse him. Yet, in spite of herself, she found that she was weakening, succumbing to the assault he was making on her senses. The ability to struggle was leaving her, draining away and making her strangely vulnerable. She knew she couldn't fight him any longer: she must give in to him.

  Then, as violently as he had seized her, he released her again and she staggered back from him, one hand going instinctively to her bruised mouth, which still seemed to bear the pressure of his lips.

  'That'll teach you not to provoke me again,' he said with some satisfaction.

  'How dare you!'

  'Can't you think of a more original response than that?' He seemed unmoved, even slightly amused by her words. 'You'll be trying to slap my face next.'

  She was sorely tempted to do just that, predictable behaviour or no, but the thought of the effortless way he had mastered her struggles gave her pause. She had no way of knowing how he might retaliate if she tried anything of the sort and, for the moment at least, she had no intention of finding out. Instead, feeling as if her legs could hardly support her, she sat down again.

  'Very wise,' he mocked her. He bent down to retrieve the scattered dishes and stacked them on the tray. 'I think I'd better put these out of harm's way, don't you? We don't want any more accidents.'

  He picked up the load and put it on a small table by the door, then returned to stand by the fire. Kate maintained what she hoped was a dignified silence, but it seemed that she had failed to convince him of her utter indifference to his actions.

  'You needn't look so apprehensive,' he said with some amusement. 'I should have warned you I'm a dangerous man to cross. But, as I said, you provoked me. I shan't be repeating the experience. At least,' he qualified with a half smile, 'if you behave yourself.'

  'Do you normally force your attentions on women who annoy you?'

  He sounded as if the conversation suddenly bored him. 'I don't usually need to force my attentions, as you put it, on any woman. I invariably find most of them are only too happy to—oblige me.'

  'Then I suppose I must be uniqu
e in not being swept off my feet by you,' Kate said recklessly. 'Perhaps, in future, you'd better confine yourself to delighting those poor fools who can take such insufferable behaviour.'

  She had no chance to hear what reply he intended to this sally, for at that moment the door opened and Aunt Meg entered.

  'I hope Kate has been looking after you properly, Mr Blake?' she asked anxiously.

  'I m sorry to have taken so long to get your room ready for you.'

  'Oh, I'm not complaining, Mrs Carmichael,' he said. 'Your niece has certainly done her best to entertain me in your absence.'

  Kate caught the undercurrent of amusement in his voice and seethed. How dare he laugh at her? She tried to calm down, aware that losing her temper with him was not the way to deal with this man. She needed to keep all her wits about her if she wanted to come off best in any encounter with him.

  'You'll be wanting a meal, I expect, Mr Blake?' Her aunt was fussing over him anxiously. If this was the tender care afforded to all the summer visitors, Kate was hardly surprised that so many of them returned year after year to stay with Aunt Meg. She had a strong suspicion, however, that this was not the case and that Aunt Meg had succumbed to the stranger's attractive face and air of command. 'I'm afraid it'll only be very makeshift,' she was saying worriedly 'but I could heat up some soup, if you—'

  'I have eaten, thanks. But a cup of coffee would be nice, if that's possible?'

  He could be charming, when the mood took him, Kate thought sourly, as she saw her aunt respond to his smile.

  'Of course.'

  'Sit down, Aunt Meg. I'll see to the coffee.' Kate was on her feet in an instant, seizing her opportunity to get away from this disagreeable man and the strange effect he was having upon her nervous system. She liked to think that she was in complete control of any situation in which she found herself and was not used to the state of impotent rage which had come upon her all too often in the last few hours. She needed to have a short breathing space to think clearly again. If only he hadn't to make it quite obvious from the look he directed at her that he knew only to well why she was retiring to the kitchen.