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Authors: Anne Mather

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BOOK: Stormspell
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If Miss Bainbridge thought they had spent rather longer exploring the house than she would have expected. she made no comment, except to compliment Ruth on the loosened curtain of her hair.

'I used to have long hair when I was young,' she confessed, as they took tea together, and Ruth was overwhelmingly conscious of the lazy satisfaction in Dominic's eyes as he looked at her. too.

'By the way.' he declared provokingly. 'We've decided to stay for dinner, after all, Bridie. That is. if you've no objections, of course.'

'Heavens, no.' Bridie was evidently delighted. 'Oh. I'm so glad. It's so seldom I have visitors,' she hesitated, and then added regretfully: 'You don't come here like you used to. Dominic.'

'No.'

His response was clipped, and Ruth wondered if he had any regrets in bringing her here. Yet. when he looked at her. she could only read warm emotion in his eyes.

When tea was over. Dominic took her outside to show her the gardens. It was a deliciously warm evening after the rain, and they left their coats indoors, Dominic looking young and relaxed in a pair of beige corded pants and dark brown velvet sweater. Since he came to meet her that afternoon, the lines of gravity and weariness had been erased from his face, and Ruth consoled her conscience with that knowledge.

Hand in hand, they tramped across the now-empty paddock to the woods beyond, and Ruth gasped in delight at the clumps of bluebells and violets that grew among the long grasses. She had never seen such simple beauty, and she knelt to bury her face in their fresh sweetness.

'You like the country, don't you?' Dominic commented. pulling her up into his arms, and she looped her arms around his neck as she nodded.

'I like it here.' she said innocently. 'I love your home. Dominic. I love everything about it. But mostly. I love the peace and the silence. It's so
quiet!"

'And me?' he prompted softly, rubbing his tongue against her lips, but she avoided an answer by pulling away from him. and darting mischievously away between the trees.

They were both ravenous by the time they came back to the house, and Ruth's face was glowing with health. She had never looked lovelier, and Dominic was not unaware of that fact.

'I must ring Aunt Davina.' she said, as soon as they came into the house. 'I—I should have done it sooner. I'm an awful coward.'

'Let me do it.' said Dominic abruptly. 'I'll explain how I met you. and where you are."

'Oh. no.' Ruth shook her head, 'I—I have to do it. Where—where can I phone?'

'In here.' said Dominic flatly, leading the way into the book-lined library, where a cream telephone resided on the desk against the far wall. 'There you are.' he indicated shortly, and went out again and left her. closing the door heavily behind him.

Her aunt was just beginning to be concerned about her. she said. 'I wasn't absolutely certain of the time of your driving lesson.' she went on brusquely, 'but I guessed you'd have some shopping to do for your trip tomorrow—'

The trip!

Ruth's immediate reaction was of stunned disbelief. Until her aunt mentioned it. all thoughts of the trip to Switzerland had been forgotten in the excitement of being with Dominic. But now it all came back in sharp detail, and she was shocked at her own negligence.

'Oh. Aunt Davina.' she began, half apologetically. only to break off in embarrassment, when she realised her aunt was still talking.

'Is Martin with you?' Aunt Davina was asking irritably, and when Ruth hastily denied it. she went on bitterly: 'You young people can be so thoughtless! Are you completely indifferent to the feelings of your parents?'

'Aunt Davina. I—'

Ruth tried to get a word in. but her aunt wasn't listening to her. and as the older woman went on, criticising the heedless arrogance of the youth of today, she realised that it was Martin who had provoked this tirade.

'He's at the track, I know it,' declared Aunt Davina harshly. 'I've tried to ring him there, but I can get no answer, and I have no idea of the number of that man Jarvis.'

Ruth hesitated. 'I—isn't his number in the telephone book?' she ventured doubtfully, but her aunt had apparently thought of that already.

'Do you know how many Jarvises there are in London?' she demanded, her voice rising shrilly. 'Where the devil is he? Why can't he simply pick up a phone?'

Ruth didn't know how to answer her. but as she sought about desperately for something to say in reassurance, she heard the sound through the phone of a door slamming.

'Wait a minute—'Aunt Davina put down the receiver with a clatter, and Ruth heard her go out of her sitting room and on to the landing. There was a shouted exchange of words, then her aunt came back to the phone, breathing rather heavily.

'He's home.' she declared, with evident relief. 'Thank God for. that!' She paused, before adding: 'Get home as quickly as you can, my dear. I shan't be here. I have that reception at the gallery to attend, but Martin will take care of you—won't you, darling?'

To her astonishment, her aunt rang off then, without even asking her whereabouts, and Ruth didn't know whether to feel relieved or disappointed. She had been prepared for accusations and recriminations. but instead she was left with the certain awareness of her own dispensability.

She came out of the library feeling slightly bemused. and found Dominic in the drawing room, standing by the windows, drinking from a glass containing some amber-coloured liquid. She guessed it was Scotch, and wished she dared to have one. Right now. she felt she needed something to restore her sense of balance.

She expected Dominic to ask what her aunt had said, but he didn't. He acknowledged her presence by turning to face her. and then, waving the glass in his hand, asked if she would like a drink.

'Yes. please.' she said, catching her lower lip between her teeth. Was no one to behave predictably? Didn't he care what happened to her any more?"

Dominic approached a cabinet, and indicated its contents. 'What would you like?' he enquired politely. 'There's Scotch and gin and brandy; or a fruit drink, if you'd prefer it.'

'I'd like a Scotch, and—and soda,' she declared firmly, causing him to look at her doubtfully, before conceding to her demands. She noticed he poured only a small measure of Scotch into her glass however. and topped it up liberally with the colourless effervescent.

It was still quite powerful for someone unused to alcohol in any form, but she sipped it determinedly, ignoring his speculative stare. Since the call to her aunt, the atmosphere had cooled perceptibly, and now she wished she had not agreed to stay to dinner. It was obvious he was regretting bringing her here, and the inevitable connotations her visit would have for him. But once he was married to Barbara, they would no doubt occupy the master bedroom when they came to visit, so no lingering memories of his recklessness need mar his future occupation.

'Well?' he said, when she had almost given up thinking about the call, and she looked at him blankly. 'Did you speak to your aunt?' he asked harshly, and her fingers tightened on her glass as she hastily nodded her head. 'So?' he persisted. 'What did you tell her? That you had met a friend of,your father's, after your driving lesson? Or that the driving school's car had had a puncture, and you were forced to delay your outing? Didn't she think it was a little strange that you should be so late? Or did you think of another convincing argument?'

Ruth was flushed by the time he had finished, and her lips quivered as she struggled to reply. 'As—as a matter of fact. I didn't have to tell her anything.' she retorted huskily. 'Mar—Martin was late, and she was worried about him. She—she didn't even ask where I was. So far as Aunt Davina is concerned, Martin has precedence.'

Dominic thrust his glass aside and came towards her. 'You mean she didn't even want to know who you were with?'

'I—I expect she might do, later. But right then, she was more concerned about Martin's whereabouts. As a matter of fact, he came in as we were talking. He'd probably been to the track. He does some amateur racing, you know. Did—did Aunt Davina mention—'

'I'm not interested in your cousin.' snapped Dominic fiercely, taking her by the shoulders, and when she looked anxiously up at him, he jerked her towards him. 'Dammit, Ruth, you should know how I feel.' He shook his head. 'You're all I care about. And it infuriates me that Davina Pascal should be so bloody selfish!'

Ruth felt a little of the coldness ease inside her. 'I—I thought you might be relieved,' she began, only to break off again at the darkening anger in his face.

'I'm not relieved.' he muttered. 'I'm glad you didn't have to lie about it—but that woman's attitude is inconsistent, to say the least. I can hardly believe it's the same woman who flew out to Indigo like a mother hen. the minute she apparently discovered you were on your own.'

Ruth shook her head, it doesn't matter—' it matters to me.' he retorted, his hand caressing her nape, and she yielded weakly against him. 'I thought you were regretting bringing me here.'

she whispered shakily, and he pressed her closer against him.

'Regretting it?' he groaned. 'God, don't you know I'd like to keep you here, like Rapunzel. in her tower, with myself holding the only key!'

Ruth tipped her head back wonderingly. 'You're jealous!' she breathed, and his lean face hardened.

'Oh. yes.' he conceded grimly, 'I'm jealous. As jealous as hell, of anyone who gets near you.'

'Dominic!'

His lips twisted. 'Didn't you know? You should. I can't keep away from you. And that woman—your aunt—I don't trust her.'

Ruth arched her brows in puzzlement. 'Why not?'

'The Doctor Fell syndrome. I guess.' he muttered harshly. 'Oh. God. I don't want anyone else taking care of you but me.'

His mouth sought hers, warm and passionate, and incredibly sweet. She responded to him eagerly, too bemused to resist, and then broke away from him in dismay when there was a discreet cough behind them.

'Er—dinner's ready.' Mis Bainbridge announced, not without some embarrassment, and Ruth walked quickly towards her. avoiding Dominic's enigmatic stare.

 

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

'Miss Symonds is on the line again, Mr Dominic,' Mrs Cooke informed him ruefully, coming into the office at his summons, and giving him a sympathetic look. 'Shall I put the call through now, or do you want me to speak to her? I explained that you were up to your eyes in contracts, but she simply refuses to believe me.'

Dominic sighed, pushing a pile of folders aside, and reaching up to tug his tie away from his throat. He had shed his jacket over two hours ago. and now he unbuttoned the collar of his shirt before making a gesture of resignation.

'Okay.' he said, 'put her through. I might as well break for fifteen minutes. Is there a cup of coffee going, do you think? I could surely do with something reviving.'

Mrs Cooke smiled. 'I'll get Jennifer to make you one.' she affirmed crisply. 'And what about Mr Grenville? Will you have time to see him today, or shall I ask him to come back on Monday?'

'Grenville? Grenville?' Dominic massaged the muscles at the back of his neck. 'Oh. yes, Grenville.' He frowned. 'I'd forgotten all about him. Has he been waiting long?'

'About half an hour. Mr Dominic. He said he didn't mind waiting. I explained that you were busy, but he was determined to stay.'

Dominic nodded thoughtfully. Then, almost immediately, he gave an exclamation. '
You
see him,' he said, extending a hand towards her. 'You deal with him, Mrs Cooke. Goodness knows, you know as well as I do why he's come here.'

'Oh—I couldn't!' Mrs Cooke looked nonplussed. 'I mean, it's you he wants to see, Mr Dominic.'

'Correction, it's my father he really wants to see,' retorted Dominic dryly. 'But as he can't, I've no doubt you could handle the preliminary discussions.'

'I don't think your father would agree to that, Mr Dominic.' murmured Mrs Cooke doubtfully. 'He always saw the customers himself.'

'I know he did.' Dominic lay back in his chair. 'But you were more often than not present, Mrs Cooke, and with your background and information, you know how to handle it.'

The woman looked absolutely confounded, and Dominic's hard face creased into a smile. 'Relax, Mrs Cooke! It's not the end of the world. I'm not asking you to sign away the Crown millions! All I want you to do is see Grenville, find out what he wants, and tell him I'll see him next week.'

Mrs Cooke shook her head, saying nothing, and Dominic gave an impatient sigh. 'If it's a rise you want.' he declared abruptly, and she caught her breath in indignation.

'I—I never thought of such a thing!' she exclaimed. and he knew she hadn't. But just now he was in no mood to be diplomatic.

Relax.' he said, straightening up in his chair before getting to his feet. 'I know I can rely on you to do the right thing, or I wouldn't have asked you.' Hef pulled a wry face. 'You and I may both win our spurs together. Mrs Cooke. Think about that, when you're dealing with Harry Grenville.'

Mrs Cooke left him, still in something of a state of shock, he feared, but recovering rapidly. He had every confidence in her. In the three weeks since he had taken over the bulk of command, she had proved her worth a dozen times over, and he could quite see why his father had depended on her judgement. Unfortunately, so far as his father had been concerned. she was female, and while Jake Crown had always enjoyed the company of the opposite sex, he deplored their promotion in business. The idea of giving his secretary the kind of responsibility she deserved would never have occurred to him, and in one thing Mrs Cooke was probably right, Dominic acknowledged; Jake would not approve.

He heard the click as the outside call was switched through to his office, and resuming his seat again, he lifted the receiver. 'Barbara?' he asked,-bracing himself. 'How are you?'

'I'm all right. How about you?' she countered shortly, confirming his suspicions. 'Where were you last evening? Didn't Shannon tell you I called?'

'He did,' Dominic admitted dryly, smiling his thanks to the young typist who had just brought in his coffee. 'But it was late when I got home, and I couldn't ring you then.'

BOOK: Stormspell
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