When the Devil Drives (17 page)

all people going like a bat out of hell on that particular bend, and

tanked up to the eyeballs as well.' He gave an awkward laugh. 'I didn't

say anything at the time, naturally, but a few of us thought it was

totally out of character.'

'Yes,' she said, 'it was.'

'Just a combination of unfortunate circumstances.' His good-natured

face was unusually solemn. 'That's what accidents are all about, I

suppose. After all, it wasn't as if.'..' Another embarrassed pause. 'I

mean, Martin had everything to live for.'

'Oh, yes.' Her lips felt numb. 'Yes, he did.' She felt a silent scream

rising inside her, and fought for control, normality. She looked

around, almost desperately. 'Well—is there anything I can help with,

while I'm here? I don't want to butt in, of course...'

'Oh, but you wouldn't,' Philip said heartily, clearly glad to step on to

safer ground. 'On the contrary, I was wondering if you'd like to come

down to the shopfloor and cast an eye over the new finishes we're

using for the kitchen units. We've tried to break away from traditional

lines this time, and a woman's opinion would be more than welcome.'

That wasn't precisely what she'd intended, Joanna thought ruefully, as

she followed him. She'd hoped to have a good root round in Simon's

office, to see if she could find any indication about his plans, but at

least she supposed she was making herself useful in a minor way.

She spent over an hour in the workshop, and had to admit she was

impressed. If the Craft Company went under, it would not be for lack

of ideas or enthusiasm, she reflected. The place was a positive hive of

activity.

Simon, dear brother, she addressed him silently, I don't know what

you're up to, but I hope you're working for us, not against us.

Afterwards they went to Philip's office for more coffee and

sandwiches.

'If I'd realised I was having a guest, I'd have arranged. for something

more glamorous.' Philip gave her a speculative look. 'Now that you're

back in circulation, Jo, I was wondering if you'd care to have dinner

with me one evening?'

'That's—sweet of you.' Joanna managed to conceal her dismay. This

was a complication she didn't need. 'I thought you were seeing

Lindsay Armitage?'

'Oh, that's just about over,' he said briskly. 'She keeps dragging me

past jewellers' windows, and leaving, pictures of wedding dresses

lying round the flat. Very off-putting!'

Joanna smiled in spite of herself. 'It must be.' She hesitated, searching

for a valid way to excuse herself, and finding none. 'Thank you,

Philip,' she yielded at last. 'Dinner would be fine.'

'Great—terrific! Have you got your diary?' He produced his own,

squinting at the entries. 'I need the Rosetta Stone to decipher this lot,'

he muttered. 'But next Wednesday seems all right for me.'

'And for me.' She could always arrange to come down with bubonic

plague in the interim period.

'Then it's a date?'

'It's a date,' she agreed, and saw Philip look past her towards the

doorway, his fresh face stiffening slightly. She thought, Simon? but

knew, even as she turned to follow the direction of his gaze, that it

was not.

Cal Blackstone was standing in the doorway behind them.

'I hope I'm not intruding,' he said too courteously into the blank

silence. 'I was actually looking for Simon, but his office appears to be

empty.'

'He's away.' Joanna found a voice from somewhere. 'On business.'

His brows lifted. 'Indeed? I'm glad to hear it. Judging by the message

on my answering machine this morning, I thought he'd taken leave of

his senses.'

'What did he say?' asked Philip.

'It sounded like a declaration of war, only slightly more anatomical,'

Cal drawled. 'I came to ask for an explanation.'

'I—I can probably provide that.' Joanna got to her feet, putting down

her half-eaten sandwich. 'Perhaps we should talk privately in his

office.'

'Maybe we should.' Cal's eyes dwelled on her coolly and

reflectively.She glanced at Philip, whose expression wavered

between bewilderment and apprehension. 'Er—until Wednesday,

then.'

'Oh—yes, of course,' he said feebly.

She walked past Cal, her head held high, and along the narrow

corridor back to Simon's office. Cal followed her in and closed the

door.

There was a brief and loaded silence, then he said, 'Don't you ever

bloody learn?'

'I don't know what you're talking about.'

'Oh, yes, you do.' The quietness of his tone only seemed to emphasise

its underlying anger and menace. 'If you're thinking of that poor sap

as a replacement for Martin, then forget it. It wouldn't work.'

'Naturally you would think so,' she said bitterly. 'But it's none of your

concern, and I'll thank you to remember it.'

'Really?' He sat down on the edge of the desk, regarding her steadily.

'What makes you think that?'

'You heard Simon's message.' She took a deep breath, praying that

she was right. That Simon was away somewhere, saving their necks.

'He's not here because he's arranging a financial deal which is going

to get you out of our lives for good, commercially and personally.'

'Is he indeed?' He didn't look or sound particularly disconcerted.

'What's brought about this sudden rush of blood to the head, I

wonder?'

Joanna swallowed. 'He knows everything—about us. I told him. And

in return he explained a few things to me.'

Cal frowned. 'What does that mean?'

'It means, that I know the whole sordid story from beginning to end. I

know about my grandmother, and exactly why your grandfather was

evicted and sacked.' She paused. 'In my opinion, he more than asked

for it, and deserved worse.'

'Spoken like a true Chalfont,' Cal said sardonically.

'I am a Chalfont, and proud of it!' she flung back at him.

'Even though you claim to have heard the whole story?' He shrugged.

'It's your own name you should be ashamed of!' she said hotly. 'And

your own disgusting motives. I suppose you thought it would be

amusing to try and emulate your grandfather's—disgraceful

behaviour. Well, the joke's over.'

'Not emulate, darling,' he said gently. 'Surpass. What I take, I keep.'

His eyes swept over her without haste, from her head down to her

toes. It seemed to Joanna that wherever his gaze lingered her skin

warmed, blossomed. Sudden need clenched achingly inside her, and

her throat closed.

She said thickly, 'You will not take me. Not now, not ever.'

'Not unless I choose.'

'It's over. I can't be—manipulated any more. Simon won't allow it.'

'What touching faith you have in that rackety brother of yours.' Cal's

eyes narrowed. 'So—what's this deal he's arranging? Another Great

Train Robbery?'

'That's our business.' Joanna wondered where she was finding the

strength—the sheer bravado. 'But when it's finalised you'll be paid off

in full.' Oh, God, I only hope I'm not bluffing. 'And, after that, you

can stay out of my life.'

'And if the deal falls through?'

'You can still stay out of my life.' Her breathing had quickened

painfully. 'What you've done—what you tried to do is unforgivable.'

There was a silence. Then, 'You sound as if you mean it,' Cal

commented at last. 'Which—simplifies matters, I suppose.' He

reached into the pocket of the light jacket he was wearing, and

extracted a familiar bundle of papers. He tossed them on to the desk

beside him. 'Simon's IOUs. They're all there, but you can check with

him if you're in doubt.'

'You're returning them?' She stared at him, trying to make sense of it

and failing. The Blackstones fought. They didn't simply relinquish

their remaining weapons and walk away. 'Why?'

'To use your own classic phrase, my sweet—the joke's over.' He sent

her a light smile which did not reach his eyes. 'All done with. Finito.'

She took an unsteady breath. 'I—don't believe you.'

Cal shrugged again. 'That's your privilege. But it happens to be true.

As you figured out, it did amuse me for a while to see how far you'd

be prepared to go to protect the unworthy Simon. He really doesn't

deserve your devotion.'

'In your opinion.'

'In the view of all right-thinking people,' he countered grimly. 'Do

you think I'd have let a man treat any sister of mine—string her

along—as I have you, and go on living?' He shook his head. 'I waited

for him to come round—to confront me—to try and break my legs.

But young Simon fulfilled all my expectations of him.'

The firm mouth tautened. 'That wasn't all, of course. I wanted to

experiment, Joanna. To see how deeply that bloody Chalfont pride

was entrenched in you. To what lengths you'd go to hang on to what

little you have left, and protect the facade—the sham of your life.' He

gave her a long, level look. 'Well, the experiment's over, and now that

I know the answer I'm no longer interested.' He laughed harshly. 'But

it's interesting to discover that even Simon the worm has his turning

point.'

She felt as if she were dying inside, but she rallied. 'Don't—don't you

dare talk about Si like that! You have no right...'

'It's no more than the truth. Everyone has a right to speak that,' he

said. 'Jonas was the biggest bully in the West Riding, but, like most of

his kind, a coward as well when his bluff was called. He never fought

with my grandfather, man to man. He preferred softer targets. Your

father inherited his weaknesses, but none of the iron. He was a

charming lightweight at that mill, with little or no head for business,

and Simon's just like him.'

'My father is a sick man.'

'I know that, and I'm sorry, but it doesn't change a thing. You've

grown up believing that Dad and I cheated him—forced him out of

business.' He shook his head. 'Not so, Joanna. Everything he lost, he

gave away with both hands, although I won't deny that we accepted

with gratitude.' He paused. 'I hope Simon can bring off a deal which

will tow this company permanently out of the mire, but I'm not

convinced. And even if he does buy me off, I shall be at his shoulder

waiting. Don't ever let him forget that.'

'He never will.' She was hurting so much that it was difficult getting

the words out. 'Nor will I.'

He gave her a crooked smile. 'I'm sure the lesson's been a salutary

one. In some ways, Joanna, I'm going to be sorry you're the one that

got away. I've enjoyed seeing you take the bait—wriggle on the hook.

You have a very lovely body under the ladylike clothes you usually

wear. I'd like to have enjoyed it—and taught you equal enjoyment.'

'The very thought,' she said steadily, 'makes me want to throw up.

Will you go, please? Get out of here. Leave me alone!'

'For now, yes. Tell Simon I was looking for him.' He swung lithely

off the desk and walked to the door, where he halted and turned. 'A

parting thought,' he said pleasantly, and reached for her, pulling her

into his arms with overwhelming suddenness.

His mouth was hard on hers, ruthlessly demanding a submission, an

access that Joanna had no thought to deny him. Her clothing proved

no barrier to the series of small madnesses his hands were creating all

over her body.

He was not tender, yet in spite of this—or maybe even because of

it?—her whole being seemed convulsed into one silent scream of

yearning that took no heed of decency or even sanity. She had

claimed not to want him. He had stated categorically that he did not

want her. And yet—and yet...

Out of the bleakness of the past, the sterility of the future, this might

be all she had to remember. She would make it count, she thought out

of some reeling corner of her mind.

Her small hands were excited, feverish, as in turn they explored,

demanded. His thigh thrust harshly between hers, and she twisted

against him, moaning softly, blind, deaf to everything but her own

sensual need.

Cal pushed up the violet top and wrenched apart the fragile lace cups

of the bra she wore beneath it. She felt his teeth graze against the

tumescent peaks of her breasts, and cried out sharply in astonishment

and painful pleasure.

He froze. It was as if the sound of her voice had recalled him from

some brink. Had reminded him, somehow, precisely who, what, and

where they were.

Joanna found herself released as swiftly as she'd been taken. She

collapsed back against the desk, staring at him. Her lips parted,

soundlessly shaping his name. His face was stark, hectically flushed

as he looked back at her.

Then his hands lifted slowly in front of him, as if he was defending