A Passionate Affair

‘I—we—do entertain, occasionally,’ she agreed, shaking her head when he offered her another drink. ‘But the company is very small yet. We don’t have an unlimited expense account.’

‘No.’ He rested his arms on the table, cradling his glass between his palms. ‘And there’s just the two of you—you and this young man, Chris Allen?’

‘Yes.’

The waiter came to take their order, and after he was gone again, Jay continued his catechism: ‘Have you known him long? Allen, I mean?’

Cassandra shrugged. ‘About seven years, I suppose. I knew him before—before I was married.’

‘Ah—–’ Jay absorbed this with a curious expression. ‘Perhaps you should have married him. You might have been—happier.’

She held up her head. ‘Maybe,’ she responded, her tone a little chilly now, and as if realising she was beginning to resent his interrogation, Jay smiled.

‘I guess you’re wondering why you agreed to have lunch with such an ignorant swine, aren’t you?’ he suggested ruefully. ‘Forgive me, but—–’ he paused, ‘perhaps I’m not used to such sensitive companionship.’

Cassandra hesitated. ‘I should have thought that was patently untrue,’ she declared steadily, and his lean mouth took on a humorous twist.

‘So I was right—Liz has been talking. Am I allowed to say anything in my own defence?’

She sighed, putting down her glass, not quite sure whether to take him seriously or not. ‘You don’t have to defend yourself to me, Mr Ravek,’ she stated carefully. ‘The way you conduct your affairs is no concern of mine.’

It sounded abominably smug, but he seemed not to take offence, and the arrival of the waiter with their soup prevented any further intimate conversation. Much to her relief, the next twenty minutes were taken up in this way and Cassandra was free to concentrate on the meal and evade any further searching questions. But, inevitably, after she had refused a dessert, coffee was served, and gaining her permission to light a long, narrow cheroot, Jay resumed his cross-examination.

‘Suppose,’ he said, attracting her unwilling attention, ‘suppose I wanted to make it your concern; the way I conduct my affairs, I mean.’ His eyes narrowed, dark and sensual between the thick lashes. ‘Does it matter to you how many women there’ve been in my life?’

‘I—why—–’ Cassandra controlled her colour with the greatest difficulty. ‘Mr Ravek—–’

‘Jay!’

‘—are you trying to insult me?’

‘No.’ He rested his elbows on the table. ‘Why should you think that?’

Cassandra moistened her lips. ‘Perhaps I’m out of touch—–’

‘But not out of reach?’

‘Mr Ravek—–’

‘Mrs Roland?’ His eyes were mocking her now. ‘You’re an intriguing lady. I can’t make up my mind whether you want to go to bed with me or not, and if the answer is no, what the hell am I doing here?’

Cassandra remained in her seat mainly because she doubted her legs would carry her across the room. But her face was red with embarrassment now, and anger at his outrageous statement far outweighed the attraction she had felt towards him.

‘Do you only take a female out to lunch if you think she wants to go to bed with you?’ she demanded, in a low angry voice, and his mocking smile briefly lit the dark contours of his face.

‘In these circumstances, is it so surprising?’ he countered, drawing on his cheroot. ‘Don’t look so shocked, Mrs Roland. It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?’

Cassandra could only assume the worst. Obviously, he believed she had been warned about him, but had chosen to ignore the warning; and in essence it was true. But she had not truly taken everything Liz had told her as gospel, and in consequence, she was left to face this humiliating confrontation unprepared.

‘I think I’d like to leave now, Mr Ravek,’ she declared stiffly, glancing round, as if she hoped some stalwart knight in shining armour might come and rescue her. ‘You’ve had your fun. Could you please ask the waiter to call a taxi for me.’

‘That won’t be necessary.’ With an abrupt movement, he thrust back his chair and got to his feet.

His action brought the waiter to his side, and while he was attending to the bill, Cassandra took the opportunity to escape. She had no desire to drive back to the office with him, but when he emerged from the building, he found her thwarted, on the car park.

‘I’d prefer to take a cab,’ she declared, when he appeared, but Jay only moved his shoulders in an indifferent gesture.

‘But as you can see, there aren’t any,’ he observed, his dark gaze sweeping the car park. ‘Come on, I’ll take you back. You can warm your cold feet in the Ferrari.’

Cassandra’s blood boiled. ‘You’re despicable!’

‘Yes, so I’ve been told,’ he agreed, without rancour. ‘Now, stop looking so outraged, and get in the car. Believe me, my ardour has been satisfactorily doused.’

If she hadn’t felt so furious with him, Cassandra knew she could have seen the funny side of this. The trouble was, in spite of everything, he was still the most disturbing man she had ever met, and if he had not made her feel so insignificant, she might well have given into his sensual attraction.

To her relief, Chris had not returned when she got back to the office, and glancing at her watch she was amazed to discover it was only a little over an hour since she had left. Somehow it had seemed so much longer than that, and her face was still burning as she seated herself at her desk.

Jay had not spoken on the journey back to the studio, and after depositing her in Chandler Mews, he had driven away without a backward glance. She wondered what he was thinking, what interpretation he had put on her behaviour, and wished she understood herself what it was she really wanted.

By the time Chris came back, she had herself reasonably in control, but the bright flags of colour in her cheeks attracted his attention.

‘You look busy,’ he remarked, no doubt imagining the heat she was displaying was due to honest toil. ‘Didn’t you go and get a sandwich? Don’t start missing meals. You’re just beginning to lose that lean and hungry look.’

‘Well, thanks!’ Cassandra tried to adopt a humorous tone. ‘I’ll bear that in mind when I’m tipping the scales.’

‘There’s no fear of you doing that,’ he retorted, lighting the inevitable cigarette. But then, with unexpected perception, he added: ‘You haven’t been having a fight with somebody, have you? You look a bit hot and bothered.’

‘I forgot to open the windows,’ replied Cassandra, hiding behind the hornrims of her spectacles. ‘Did you have a pleasant time at the Black Swan? I don’t know how you can eat pies every day of the week.’

‘Oh, I vary them with sandwiches,’ Chris answered airily, taking his seat and picking up his pencil. ‘And if you’d ever tasted June’s cooking, I guarantee you’d welcome the change.’

Cassandra’s laughter was not forced. ‘You exaggerate,’ she exclaimed. ‘Nowadays, anybody can learn to defrost a beefburger or put a tray of chips in the oven.’

‘Want to bet?’ Chris grinned across at her. ‘So—why don’t you invite me round to your flat and show me how a proper meal should taste?’

Cassandra looked at him for a moment, then shook her head, bending over her desk. ‘You’d better finish off that layout for the kitchen,’ she said, avoiding any further complications. ‘I want to drive down to the house tomorrow afternoon, and I’d like to take the designs with me.’

‘Okay.’

Chris shrugged, taking his dismissal without rancour. They had had many such exchanges since they began to work together, and so far Cassandra had found no difficulty in keeping their relationship on an impersonal basis. But she couldn’t help wondering how he would react if she told him what Jay Ravek had said to her, and while the inclination to avail herself of his sympathy was attractive, she knew she could be inviting a far more explosive situation.

The telephone rang in the middle of the afternoon and she let Chris answer it, stiffening when he held the receiver out to her. ‘That man,’ he mouthed, frowning at her look of consternation. ‘You know—the accountant I told you rang this morning.’

‘Oh!’ Cassandra’s sigh of relief aroused a look of curiosity in Chris’s eyes, but he said nothing, just handed over the receiver, and resumed his calculations as she spoke into the mouthpiece.

‘Mrs Roland?’ Paul Ludlum’s voice was young and attractive. ‘I hope I’m not ringing at an awkward time, but I did ring you earlier.’

‘I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t answer your call.’ Cassandra was contrite. ‘I—er—it’s been quite a hectic day.’