‘He has only to ask,’ Maxine told her in a bored voice.
That was the trouble, James would never ask his wife for anything, not her time, and certainly not her love. Couldn't Maxine see that? Or did she just not care? If only—–
‘Are your eyes really violet, Holly?’ Zack asked irrelevantly.
She gave him a puzzled frown. ‘So I've been told.’
‘Really, Zack,’ Maxine snapped tautly, ‘the colour of Holly's eyes is of little interest.’
‘Not to me,’ he drawled. ‘I've never met a girl who has violet eyes, I've only ever seen Elizabeth Taylor's in films.’
‘Holly bears little resemblance to Elizabeth Taylor,’ the other woman derided, her movements nervy as she kept glancing expectantly towards the door.
Zack gave Holly a long look of consideration. ‘No, she's more like a red-haired Audrey Hepburn, all eyes.’
‘Brings out the protective instinct in you, does she, darling?’ Maxine's voice had hardened to scorn.
‘A little,’ he nodded. ‘Maybe you should go up and see what's keeping James, Maxine,’ he suggested softly. ‘It's almost eight o'clock.’
Holly was becoming concerned with James's nonappearance herself, although she was more than a little surprised to see Maxine actually leave the room as Zack had told her to do.
‘You can close your mouth now,’ he drawled with amusement once they were alone.
Her mouth closed with a snap. This man gave the impression of making life a game, and yet he missed none of the emotions or movements of those about him.
‘And maybe in future,’ he added, dangerously soft, ‘you should keep your opinions concerning Maxine and James to yourself.’
‘I beg your pardon?’ she gasped.
‘You heard me.’ The lazy humour had completely gone from his face and voice now, revealing a more steely side to his character. ‘They have enough problems already, without a third person adding to them,’ he warned.
‘If anyone is an unwanted third person here it isn't me,’ she snapped. ‘You—–’ she broke off as she heard the descent of the lift from the bedrooms to the ground floor, a necessity with James's wheelchair, and turned away as the other couple entered the room a few seconds later.
James looked tired, more tired and strained than she had ever seen him. Her anger towards the other couple grew. How dared this man Zack tell her not to interfere when he and Maxine were the ones hurting James!
‘Holly, my dear,’ James greeted her with a smile. ‘Maxine tells me you were in the library all the time this afternoon.’
She hated deceiving this man, and yet about this she had little choice. ‘Er—yes, for a while.’
‘But you and Zack have been introduced now?’
‘Well …’
‘There hasn't really been the time or opportunity,’ Zack answered him.
James frowned. ‘Maxine, didn't you—–’
‘Of course not,’ his wife cut in sharply. ‘The two of them were together when I came downstairs, I naturally assumed Zack had introduced himself. He isn't usually so backward in coming forward.’
‘What must you think of our manners, Holly!’ James said irritably. ‘This is my brother Zack. Zack, my secretary, Holly Macey.’
His brother! That was the only part of the introduction that registered with Holly. This man Zack, the man she had been consistently rude to, was James's brother. No wonder she had confused the two of them at first glance, the family resemblance was such as to have easily made that mistake. But how could Zack Benedict have such contempt for his own brother, talk so scathingly about him getting up and walking?
‘Mr Benedict,’ she nodded abrupt acknowledgment of him.
‘Zack,’ he corrected smoothly. ‘Or Zachary, if you prefer. But never Mr Benedict, Holly, Surely you're used to the informality here by now?’
Holly flushed her resentment as he very effectively reminded her that she was the outsider here, but she was restricted from answering him as she would have liked because of the other couple. Zack Benedict had deliberately encouraged her to believe her mistaken assumption of the reason he was here, was even now enjoying her discomfort, a taunting smile to his lips. But was she so wrong about his relationship with Maxine? Just because the two men were brothers that didn't preclude such a relationship between Maxine and Zack, in fact it could increase the possibility, the two men were enough alike to encourage Maxine to transfer her attention to the mobile brother.
She looked up to find Zack Benedict's eyes narrowed on her, as hard as emeralds as he seemed to guess her thoughts. Her head went back in challenge. ‘Zack,’ she repeated softly.
‘Well, now that's settled,’ Maxine put in waspishly, ‘could we go in to dinner? It's hours since Zack and I ate in London.’
‘But it was a delicious meal,’ Zack smiled, grooves etched either side of his mouth. ‘You have such a good cook.’
‘Yes, I do, don't I?’ Maxine purred at the compliment, smiling naturally for the first time that evening. ‘You remember Abigail, James?’
‘Of course I remember her,’ he snapped his bad humour. ‘I hired her!’
His wife flushed. ‘It's been so long since you visited the flat in London that I—–’
‘I may be confined to a wheelchair, Maxine, but I am not senile!’ he cut in harshly. ‘Let's go in to dinner,’ he decided roughly.
‘James—–’
‘Dinner,’ he repeated in an autocratic voice, a voice that brooked no argument from anyone.
Maxine was the one to walk beside the electrically operated wheelchair as they went through to the dining-room, and Holly had perforce to accept the arm Zack Benedict mockingly held out to her. Not that she gave him a second glance, being too taken aback by James's attitude to Maxine. She had never heard him speak to his wife like that before in her presence, and she could only wonder at his uncharacteristic sharpness with her now. Perhaps he too wondered about his wife's relationship with his young brother.
The small round table had been set with four places, one of the chairs being removed as James skilfully manouevred his chair into this vacant spot. Holly and Maxine were to sit either side of him, with Zack opposite, the younger man seeing both woman seated with a gallant flourish.
The meal was nothing like the quiet ones of enjoyment Holly and James had shared together in the evenings the last few weeks, James eating his food in morose silence, Maxine and Zack seeming lost in their own thoughts, Holly just feeling awkward and uncomfortable in the tense atmosphere.
‘How is the writing going, James?’ Zack finally cut through the soft clatter of cutlery.
‘Fine,’ his brother answered curtly.
‘I'm sure working with Holly must be a great inspiration,’ the younger man taunted.
‘Holly is—restful to be with,’ James replied slowly.
‘Really?’ Dark blond brows rose over sceptical green eyes. ‘She doesn't make me feel that way.’
‘Holly makes Zack feel protective,’ Maxine put in derisively.
Hazel eyes sharpened suspiciously. ‘Protective?’
‘Actually,’ Zack answered the other man, ‘she doesn't make me feel that way either. Can you sing, Holly?’