Millionaire's Women Part 7

'Like what?' she asked, genuinely hurt by the thread of anger.

'Like you expect me to treat you badly, manhandle you, hurt you.'

She supposed she did expect him to hurt her if she got involved with him, but not in the physical sense he was talking about.

'h.e.l.l, Cory.' He was suddenly furious and it showed. 'Give me a break, won't you. I don't know how this William guy behaved but I'm not him. OK? It might be stating the obvious but I need to say it.'

'I know you're not him,' she said shakily.

'Do you? I don't think you do, not yet.' And then he echoed her earlier thought when he said, 'It's been two days and yet it feels like much, much longer. Do you feel that?'

She wanted to make some clever, witty comment and then send him on his way, or even just shake her head. She nodded instead.

'Do you see the age gap as a problem?'

'What?' It had been the last thing she'd expected him to say.

'I'm ten years older than you. Does that bother you?' he asked softly.

She didn't know what to say. Something was happening here and she seemed to have no control over it. She shook her head because she couldn't have spoken to save her life.

'You're going to tell me we inhabit different worlds, aren't you?' he went on.

She hadn't been but now he'd mentioned it it was absolutely true.

'And you're right,' he said quietly. 'For the last thirteen years I've worked like a dog and loved every minute, and any woman I've got involved with has known the score. At first I was so cut up about Joanna it was easier to keep relations.h.i.+ps from developing into anything but physical ones. There are plenty of career women out there who aren't looking to settle down until way on in their timescale of things, and they suited me as I did them. Fun, friends.h.i.+p, someone warm in bed but no emotional commitment. Then, as time went on, I found I was becoming autonomous because I liked liked it that way, not because of any lingering loyalty to Joanna. The freedom of being self-determining and independent was heady.' it that way, not because of any lingering loyalty to Joanna. The freedom of being self-determining and independent was heady.'

She stared at him, her eyes wide. Was he being brutally honest at last? Was he going to say that any relations.h.i.+p with him would be purely physical and only last as long as he wanted it to? His other women had obviously been happy with that.

And then he disabused her of that idea. 'You might be a career woman but you aren't like them, are you.' It was a statement, not a question. 'You think differently.'

This was all because of what she had inadvertently told him before dessert. That she was a virgin. A twenty-five-year-old virgin. Was this his way of telling her he wasn't going to see her again because she wasn't like the other women, wasn't what he wanted?

Her chin rose a notch. 'Nick,' she began, but he put a finger to her lips.

'We come from different ends of the pole, Cory, but you know as well as I do that there's a spark there. It's there when I touch you and it's there when I don't. And I like that. It makes me feel alive,' he added wryly. 'I didn't realise till I met you that I was growing stale. So, how about we see each other once in a while, take it nice and easy and see how things go? Sure there'll be hurdles, but we'll take them one at a time and see what happens. What do you say?'

Every single brain cell was telling her to say no. It was the sensible, the safe safe thing to do. She had been this way once before with William and it had ended in disaster. This would too. She knew it at heart. Nick would grow bored with her; it was inevitable with a man like him. No was the only answer to give. thing to do. She had been this way once before with William and it had ended in disaster. This would too. She knew it at heart. Nick would grow bored with her; it was inevitable with a man like him. No was the only answer to give.

But she couldn't do it. She couldn't tell him to walk away from her. Not yet.

Cory was unaware of the play of emotions across her face, but when he pulled her to him she realised he'd guessed something of what she was feeling. 'So, do we start doing the dreaded ''d'' word?' he asked drily.

She looked into the blue eyes. From somewhere she found the strength to be as cool and laid-back as him. 'I guess we'd better give it a shot for a while,' she said airily. 'If only to stop you growing stale.'

CHAPTER FIVE.

'OH, DARLING, that's absolutely wonderful. I'm so pleased. Haven't I said you need another boyfriend, if only to spite William?'

Cory smiled at her aunt. For someone who had lived most of her adult life in the crazy and often promiscuous world of fas.h.i.+on, Joan could be terribly ingenuous. 'For one thing, Nick's not my boyfriend,' she said gently, not wanting to disappoint the older woman. 'We're just going to date sometimes, that's all. And, considering I haven't seen William for three years, I doubt very much if anything I do would affect him in the slightest. He didn't care when we were together as he proved only too well. He'd hardly take any interest now.'

'What do you mean, he's not your boyfriend?' said Joan, ignoring the rest. 'You said Nick wants to see you. It's not one of these modern open sort of things, is it? Where he can do what he likes and so can you?'

'Not exactly.' To be truthful, she wasn't sure what it was, but she couldn't very well say that.

'I'd like to meet him,' stated Joan definitely.

Cory's nerves jangled. Joan had only met William once and it had been such an unmitigated disaster that they hadn't repeated it. 'I've only seen him twice myself,' she objected. 'I can hardly ask him round for an inspection by you.'

'Not an inspection.' Joan fixed her with a look that said she wasn't about to be deflected. 'Just to dinner.'

'Not yet,' Cory said firmly. Maybe not at all. She was due to go out to the theatre with him in the middle of the week and she was preparing herself already for the possibility that things might have changed between them. The weekend they had just shared had been...good-she wouldn't allow herself a more enthusiastic summing up-but they might meet again and there would be nothing there. For him at least. And that would be fine, it would would. She was expecting nothing from this relations.h.i.+p that wasn't really a relations.h.i.+p at all. She was ordinary ordinary, for crying out loud.

She had spent most of the day in the house of a family who hadn't a clue about personal hygiene or the most elementary social graces, trying to ascertain if the children were neglected out of intent or simply because their young parents didn't have a clue.

She had returned home exhausted and stinking of the smell peculiar to the Ma.s.sey family-a mixture of cat's urine, dirt, cooking smells and body odour-which permeated every nook and cranny and ingrained itself into clothes, hair and nails. After was.h.i.+ng her hair and having a long, hot bath she had gone round to her aunt's house for dinner as she did every Monday, only to find that the odour seemed to have lodged itself somewhere between the end of her nose and her brain.

She could just imagine Nick's reaction if he had seen her earlier. She almost laughed to herself. Nick, with his incredible flat, cars, designer clothes and immaculate appearance. No, they were miles, tens of thousands of miles apart. It was never going to come to anything. He was like a bright shooting star and she was like a damp squib.

'Not yet?' Joan was the original British bulldog when she wanted to be. 'When then? Now your parents are gone I feel responsible for you.'

Now Cory did laugh out loud. 'You know as well as I do that Mum and Dad barely knew I was alive,' she said, just the merest trace of bitterness showing through. 'And they would never have claimed to be responsible for me.'

'Their loss.' Joan sighed, looking into the lovely young face opposite her and wondering how two intelligent people like Cory's parents could have been so criminally blind to their own daughter's needs. 'But I do worry about you. I can't help it. And I know you are a perfectly modern woman who is in control of her life and her destiny, but still...'

Cory wasn't at all sure about the control bit. 'Maybe in a couple of months,' she said placatingly. If they were still seeing each other then. Which she doubted. The tug at her heartstrings which followed was worrying.

'I shall keep you to that,' Joan said with great satisfaction. 'Now, have a piece of the shortbread I made this afternoon with your coffee. I'm really getting the hang of this cooking lark, aren't I, Rufus,' she added to the dog sitting drooling at her feet. 'After all those years at work when I ate out or had a ready meal in front of the TV, I've found it's very satisfying to start a meal from scratch with fresh ingredients.'

'You and Nick are going to have a lot to talk about,' said Cory wryly.

They did. Two months later-months in which she and Nick had seen each other almost every night-Cory found herself watching him charm his way into her aunt's affections. He had arrived at the house with a vast collection of herbs, all in little plant pots-'thought it'd go down better than a bunch of flowers', he'd murmured to Cory, who'd arrived early to help her aunt with the dinner-and an enormous hide bone for Rufus. The dog had promptly claimed Nick as his own personal companion, sitting on his foot all through dinner and then plonking himself down at the side of Nick's armchair when they'd retired to Joan's conservatory overlooking her pretty little garden.

The doors had been open to the warm August evening and in the distance somebody had been cutting their lawn, the drone of the lawnmower soothing. When Nick and her aunt had begun an in-depth conversation concerning the merits of certain herbs in certain dishes and other gastronomic delights, Cory had found herself beginning to doze. She'd had a hard week with a particularly harrowing case, and now the big meal, comfortable chair, mellow evening suns.h.i.+ne and general sense of well-being was seductive.

She was woken by a lingering kiss on her lips. She opened her eyes to find her aunt was nowhere to be seen. 'Where's she gone?' she asked Nick drowsily.

'Your aunt? Taken Rufus for a quick walk in the park. Apparently they have a little routine at nights now her leg's better. Rufus has a chance to meet Oscar-an Old English Sheepdog,' Nick explained knowledgeably, 'and Periwinkle-a German Shepherd. According to your aunt, they are the canine version of the Three Musketeers and Rufus is bereft if they don't meet up.' His expression changed. 'Were you bored earlier?' he asked softly.

'Bored?' She gazed into the hard handsome face and wondered if he was aware of how devastatingly gorgeous he was. 'How could anyone be bored listening to the merits of basil and thyme, or curd cheese over b.u.t.ter icing?'

He was used to her chaffing him. She had decided in the very early days that the only way she was going to hold her own in this relations.h.i.+p was not to fall foul of his charm.

He grinned at her now and she caught her breath as the blue eyes crinkled s.e.xily at the corners. 'Worked though, didn't it,' he said with a great deal of satisfaction. 'Your aunt is putty in my hands.'

So was she but she wasn't about to let him know that. 'I'll set her straight another time,' she promised drily.

'Come here.' His voice had changed and as she stood up he pulled her into his arms, his tone husky as he said, 'I've been wanting to do this all evening.' His kiss was fierce, hungry, and she matched him in fierceness and hunger. It was always like that. And she knew the day was fast approaching when he would want it all, want her in his bed. She wanted it too. It had never been that way with William. Nothing was as it had been with William. That ought to be comforting but it wasn't because she just couldn't bring herself to believe that the bubble wouldn't burst.

They stood moulded together and swaying slightly as their hands explored each other while their mouths fused. Nick nipped and sipped and savoured the sweet taste of her, pressing the tip of his tongue against her throat where her pulse pounded in reaction. He knew just what b.u.t.tons to press, exactly how to please her. She knew going to bed with this man would be an experience she'd never get over. She would be his slave for ever.

'Pity your aunt's going to be back any minute.' Reluctantly he raised his head, his voice husky as he adjusted her clothing.

His eyes had turned a deeper blue than usual and she smiled at him, the thrill she always felt at knowing how much he wanted her sending little ripples down her spine.

'I want you, Cory.' He ran one fingertip down her throat and into the dip between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and she s.h.i.+vered. 'And you want me. Not in little s.n.a.t.c.hed moments or an evening here and there.'

Wanting was dangerous. Needing even more so. She stared at him, her eyes enormous in the shadows which were encroaching as night fell.

'I love you,' he said very softly. 'Do you love me?'

She had known it would come to this one day. The summer had been so wonderful, so magical, but underlying every day had been a complicated web which had got stickier the more they had been together. The gap between them was as immense as it had ever been. He spoke of love but what he really meant was that he wanted her. Not just physically, she knew he wasn't as cra.s.s as William and that he enjoyed being with her, but as for it lasting...

She drew back a little in his arms as she looked up at him. She had to be honest here. It was the only way but she was frightened this would be the moment he would get tired of her. 'I'm not sure I know what love is,' she said carefully. 'My parents had this feeling between them they said was love but to me, on the outside, it was more of an obsession. It made them cruel to...to other people without them even knowing it.'

'To you?' he murmured, retaining her in his hold, his eyes narrowed on her face which was pale with emotion.

She nodded. 'One of my flatmates at university said I'd been programmed from birth to accept the fact I was unloveable and unworthy. I hated her for it at the time-she wasn't a particularly good friend and was always a.n.a.lysing everyone because she was doing psychology-but she might have been right. She said because I'd never experienced love when I was young-the old thing of give me a child until he's seven and I will give you the man-I'd never know it in my adult life.'

Nick swore, just once but so explicitly Cory was shocked. 'Get that out of your head,' he said roughly. 'That's rubbish and the woman wants locking away.'

'She got a First.'

'She'd get a darn sight more if I got my hands on her.' He shook her gently. 'Listen to me, Cory. Life is what you make of it, OK? You don't play with the cards you would have liked, you play with the ones you've been dealt and some of them can be lousy. Look at Lucinda. The woman was built to have babies-big, fat, Italian babies-but can you honestly say she is grieving her life away? Look at her at her birthday party; she was happy and making the most of what she did did have.' have.'

They had had a whale of a time at the party, which had gone on all night until everyone had been served breakfast, but now Cory said, 'She knows John loves her, really loves her, and she loves him. She's not confused or inhibited. She trusts him.'

'Dead right. But if they could have had children their love would have flowed over and encompa.s.sed each one. You see that, don't you? Because it's real, it's not selfish or restricting. You said yourself what your parents had was more obsession than love, so how the h.e.l.l can you weigh anything they said or did to you in the balance and find yourself wanting? Of course you're loveable. d.a.m.n it, I could eat you alive.'

She didn't return his smile. How could she explain to him that she knew deep inside the day would come when he didn't want her any more? She didn't have the power to inspire real love. If she didn't have it for her parents then why would anyone else love her? 'William said he loved me,' she said flatly.

'William was a piece of dirt.'

She raised tortured eyes to his. 'You can't say that. You have never even met him.'

'Let's hope I don't, for his sake,' Nick said grimly. 'Cory, the guy was on the make and he strung you along. There are men like that out there but we're not all the same. I have never lied to you and I never will.'

No, but that wouldn't make it any the easier when he got tired of her. He could have any woman he liked. Why on earth would he stay with her?

'You think if you let yourself love me I'll treat you like William, right?'

She could tell he was struggling to remain calm and she couldn't blame him. She wished he would let go of her. She couldn't think clearly when he was holding her. She shook her head. 'I've told you, I don't think you're like him. Maybe at first, but not when I got to know you.'

'So where is the problem, for crying out loud?'

Me. I'm the problem.

The sudden arrival of Rufus shooting through to the conservatory followed by Joan calling out she was back brought the very unsatisfactory conversation to a close. Cory got her wish because Nick let go of her, bending down to stroke the dog as Joan came bustling through.

'Sorry we've been a while but Rufus is so popular it's always difficult to get away,' she said, for all the world as though she'd been accompanying a sought after celebrity to some event or other. 'Now, coffee, yes? And you must try one of my demerara meringues, Nick. They don't have the cloying sweetness of meringues made with white sugar. Have you ever tried your hand at meringues?'

Cory made an excuse and left them to it. When she reached her aunt's neat pink and cream bathroom she locked the door behind her and sank down on the edge of the bath. She was trembling and she didn't seem able to stop. He had said he loved her but he'd probably said the same thing to the women he'd had long-term relations.h.i.+ps with in the past. Love didn't necessarily equate to staying together or fidelity or dependability or any of those sorts of things.

She ran her hand through her hair before groaning softly. Was she being too possessive and clingy here? Thousands of women the whole world over were quite happy to give themselves body and soul to a man without the promise that it was going to work out, or even that they would stay together for more than a short while. If things went wrong they picked themselves up, brushed themselves down and got on with their lives. She worked with women like that and there had been plenty among her friends at university. Strong, determined, independent women.

She got up and walked over to her aunt's basin, was.h.i.+ng her hands with a rather strong-smelling lavender soap before drying them on a rose-embroidered towel, her head buzzing.

When William left her life so unpleasantly she hadn't crumbled. She might have been crying inside but she'd gritted her teeth and presented the normal capable Cory to the rest of the world. Only her aunt had understood what his betrayal had meant to her. Of course she hadn't given herself wholeheartedly to William, not in mind or body. But if she stayed with Nick she would do that.

She raised her head and stared at the wide-eyed girl in the mirror. Because she loved him Because she loved him, she thought sickly, facing it for the first time. She had been lying to him downstairs. She knew what love was since Nick had come into her life, and the affection she had felt for William before he had hurt her was a pale reflection in comparison. Her pride and fragile self-esteem had been hurt when William had treated her so badly but her heart hadn't been broken.

She sank down on the edge of the bath again, staring at the rose tiles without really seeing them. Right, she thought grimly. Where did she go from here? If she went into this for real it would involve staying at his place and him at hers, that much had been clear from what he'd said downstairs about not wanting her in little s.n.a.t.c.hed moments or the odd evening. It might even involve them living together. How would she survive if-when-it finished?

A coldness invaded her limbs in spite of the warm August night and she s.h.i.+vered. What sort of heartache would she be letting herself in for? How would she pick up the pieces and carry on? True, she'd have her work. Somehow that was supremely unimportant. And her friends and Aunt Joan. Not even in the equation.

She squeezed her lids tightly shut and tried to think think. She was afraid to care and afraid to be cared for. That was what it boiled down to. Nick would expect that she would trust him and she would, in so far as other women were concerned. He wouldn't play the field when he was with her; he wasn't like that. But if he fell out of love with her and in love with one of the glamorous, exciting businesswomen he met every day...

She took a long shaky breath. And she couldn't expect anything else to happen long-term, not realistically. He had made it clear when they first met that his work was his life and women fitted into the niche he'd allowed for them. He needed his independence, he'd said, had found he liked autonomy, no complications in his love life.

An increase of pressure from somewhere inside her chest made it difficult for her to breathe. She had known from the beginning that she should have sent him packing after that first weekend. But she had miscalculated. She had thought it was Nick who was dangerous but in fact it had been her own feelings that were the real hazard. From the first time she'd met him she had known she could love him. But she had been too cowardly to face that then and do something about it. And now everything was a million times worse.

She couldn't be what he wanted. She rose and began pacing back and forth. And that was it in a nutsh.e.l.l really. She wouldn't be able to let him go gracefully when the time came; in fact, she wouldn't be able to let him go at all. And then it would all turn horribly messy and nasty. It happened, all the time.

But not to her. She stopped the pacing and became very still. Because she wouldn't let it. This was the point where she had to take control. OK, it was h.e.l.lishly late in the day but better late than never. She smiled bleakly.

Nick and her aunt were sitting eating demerara meringues and drinking coffee when she joined them.

'Excuse us starting, darling, but you were such a long time.' Joan gazed up at her, her smile changing to a frown of concern. 'Are you all right, Cory? You look terribly pale all of a sudden.'

'I have a headache.' It was true, she did. Her head was pounding fit to burst.

'Oh, I'm sorry, sweetie.' Her aunt jumped up. 'I'll get some aspirin.'

When Joan had disappeared into the house, Nick leant across and took one of her hands. 'You're cold,' he said quietly. 'You must be sickening for something. Do you want me to take you home?'