Living Together Read online

  If he looked at her the way he was right now she could quite well believe it. The warmth in his tawny eyes for her made her blush. ‘Then don’t look at me,’ she advised, and hurried into the bedroom before he could reply.

  She chose a bottle-green dress, a shirtwaister, shaped at the waist with a narrow belt in the same colour green. The colour made her hair appear blacker, her eyes more violet, and she knew she looked attractive. The look in Leon’s eyes echoed that sentiment as he slowly appraised her.

  He opened the car door for her. ‘You’re asking a lot when you say I shouldn’t look at you. The way you look at the moment I can hardly take my eyes off you.’

  Helen made a show of settling herself in her seat as a ‘way of not answering him. ‘Did your parents mind?’ she asked once they were on their way. ‘My being with you, I mean.’

  ‘Not when I told them you were beautiful and that they’ll like you. If it had been someone like Crystal they probably wouldn’t have been very enthusiastic. As it is, they’re looking forward to meeting you.’

  Her eyes became shadowed. ‘You don’t think they’ll recognise me? My face was on the front of all the national newspapers for some time. I couldn’t bear it if—’

  ‘They won’t recognise you, Helen,’ Leon cut in gently, one of his hands momentarily touching hers as they clenched and unclenched on her lap. ‘And even if they do they won’t judge you. No one who really knows you could suspect you of doing anything underhand.’

  ’Do they know I’ve been married?’

  ‘I didn’t go into your life history on the telephone, Helen. Besides, I don’t consider you have been married—one night together can hardly be called a marriage.’

  ‘It was one night that managed to produce a child,’ she pointed out sharply.

  ‘I hate the thought of you carrying his child,’ Leon said grimly. ‘And the thought of him—God, I can’t stand it!’ he groaned, putting a hand up to his temple, a heavy frown to his brow.

  Helen put her hand on his arm. ‘I hated every minute of it, Leon. I—I thought I loved him, but—but what he subjected me to showed me it was just infatuation. It died as instantly as it had begun.’

  Leon had turned to look at her. ‘That’s the first time you’ve touched me of your own volition,’ he said huskily.

  She snatched her hand away. ‘I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have—’

  ‘Oh, but you should,’ he smiled at her, his tawny eyes sensuous. ‘You can touch me any time you like. Now that you’ve made the first move perhaps it will come easier to you next time.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ she agreed hollowly. She was surprised at herself for daring to make such a move. Perhaps everything could be all right between them, perhaps in time…Oh God, she hoped so! She did want to feel again, she did!

  ‘Just touch me whenever you want to,’ he encouraged. ‘I like it.’

  Helen felt selfconscious about her involuntary action, and her uncertainty returned. She had touched Leon without thinking, but now found that she liked the feel of his firm flesh beneath her hand, that she liked the male strength of him.

  ‘You’re going to be very tired tomorrow.’ She changed the subject to hide her confusion.

  ‘I’m hoping it will have been worth it,’ Leon said softly.

  ‘Will there be anyone else there besides your parents?’ Again she tried to introduce another subject and this time Leon seemed to take the hint, assuring her there would be no one else there.

  Helen was more relaxed by the time he turned the car up the driveway to his parents’ home, slowing the car down to drive over the cattle grid that was the only means of stopping the ponies and their foals actually wandering into the well-laid-out garden. She had noticed that all the houses in this area were fenced in and had the cattle grids. No doubt the ponies could do quite a lot of damage if they were allowed to roam in the gardens.

  ‘Do you think they’ll like me?’ She voiced her nervousness, smoothing her dress down as she stepped out of the car.

  ‘They’ll love you,’ Leon assured her. ‘My parents are nothing like Muriel and Trafford West,’ he added hardly.

  ‘It’s hardly the same situation,’ Helen dismissed. ‘You don’t think they’ll imagine we’re—’

  ‘No, they won’t imagine anything,’ he cut in harshly. ‘Just relax, Helen, and enjoy your visit.’

  She smiled shyly as his mother came out to greet them, a tiny woman with iron-grey hair that had once been the blonde colour of her son’s, a woman still beautiful because she was utterly serene, completely happy with her life.

  Leon bent down to kiss his mother’s powdered cheek, and a look of affection passed between the two. ‘Where’s Dad?’ he enquired lazily.

  ‘In his greenhouse,’ his mother smiled. ‘I’ve sent Ash to get him.’ She turned to Helen, her smile returning after the first piercing glance. ‘And you must be Helen.’ She took her arm. ‘Come into the house, my dear. My husband shouldn’t be long.’

  Helen turned uncertainly to Leon, relaxing slightly as he moved to stand on her other side at her silent plea. ‘What does your husband grow in his greenhouse, Mrs Masters?’

  ‘Roses,’ she smiled indulgently. ‘Until we moved here he’d never grown a thing, now he finds he has a green hand, let alone green fingers! Still, he enjoys it, and it keeps him busy.’

  ‘And out of your way,’ her son drawled. ‘My mother runs so many committees from here that Dad’s often glad to have somewhere to escape to,’ he teased affectionately.

  ‘Leon, my boy!’ boomed a deep attractive voice as Charles Masters came into the room.

  Helen watched as the two men shook hands, amazed at how alike they were, both tall and lean, Charles Masters still very attractive in spite of his seventy years. She had no doubt that Leon would look very like this at the same age; the tawny eyes were the same in both men.

  ‘So this is the young lady you’ve brought to meet us,’ he beamed down at Helen. ‘She’s lovely, Leon. Lovely.’ He smiled at Helen again and she couldn’t help smiling back, her eyes twinkling as he winked at her. ‘When are you going to make an honest man of my son, then, hm?’

  Her face blushed scarlet and she looked desperately at Leon for help. ‘I—We—’

  Charles Masters lifted her left hand, frowning as he saw the gold band she still wore on the third finger, mainly as a deterrent against any man who became interested in her than for any sentimental reasons. She wished now that she had thought to take it off, it could only lead to embarrassing questions being asked.

  ‘Unless of course you’ve already done so,’ Leon’s father probed, obviously misunderstanding the reason for the ring.

  ‘It isn’t my ring, Dad,’ Leon came to her rescue. ‘And no, I haven’t resorted to taking out married women. Helen is a widow.’

  ‘Oh, I’m sorry, my dear,’ Charles Masters gruffly apologised to her. ‘I didn’t realise.’

  ‘It isn’t recent, Dad,’ Leon said abruptly. ‘What time is lunch?’ he changed the subject.

  ‘As soon as your father has changed his clothes,’ his mother answered him.

  ‘I’m just going,’ her husband grinned. ‘She’s still a bully, son,’ he teased.

  Leon grinned back. ‘And you love every minute of it!’

  ‘Of course he does,’ his mother replied. ‘Come along, Charles, you go and change and I’ll go and make sure lunch is ready.’

  Helen glanced nervously at Leon once they were alone, noting the tautness about his mouth.

  ‘Take it off!’ he ordered harshly.

  ‘What—?’ She looked startled.

  ‘Get that damned ring off your finger!’ he snapped.

  ‘But I—’

  ‘Get it off, Helen!’ he repeated tautly. ‘I won’t have you wearing his ring when you’re with me.’

  ‘I’m sorry your father noticed it,’ she said. ‘I realise it made things awkward for you.’

  ‘I couldn’t give a damn about that, I just don’t like you we
aring his ring as if you still belong to him. So take it off!’

  She did so, slipping it inside her handbag. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said shakily.

  ‘And never wear it again when you’re with me!’ Leon was obviously still very angry.

  If his parents noted the sudden disappearance of her wedding ring they made no comment on it, but chatted easily and lightly through the traditional Sunday lunch of roast beef and Yorkshire pudding with accompanying vegetables, followed by apple pie and cream. Helen ate little, still aware of Leon’s anger towards her. He added little to the conversation, and whenever Helen happened to look at him it was to find him watching her with brooding eyes.

  His mother took her down to the bottom of the long garden after lunch to see the foals and their mothers, leaving the two men in the house to chat.

  Catherine Masters smiled at her apologetically as they watched the foals’ antics. ‘I hope my husband didn’t embarrass you earlier. Leon didn’t mention that you were a widow, my husband would never have done such a thing if he had known.’

  ‘It’s perfectly all right, Mrs Masters,’ Helen told her shyly. ‘As Leon said, it isn’t recent.’

  ‘My son seems to be annoyed about it,’ Catherine Masters said thoughtfully. ‘Have you known each other long?’

  ‘A few weeks,’ Helen answered vaguely. It might only be a few weeks, but in that short time Leon had completely upset the ordered pattern of her life, was making his fire and drive a necessary part of her life.

  ‘He’s never mentioned you before today,’ his mother mused.

  ‘I don’t suppose he thought me important enough.’

  ‘Oh, I don’t think it’s that at all—the opposite, in fact.’

  ‘We’re only friends,’ Helen told her tightly.

  Catherine gave her a sideways glance. ‘Leon has never introduced us to any of his girl-friends before.’

  That was news to Helen, and it gave her being here an intimacy that simply didn’t exist. ‘We really are only friends,’ she explained hastily. ‘And I’m not being trite. The truth of the matter is I hardly know your son.’

  ‘Sometimes that isn’t necessary,’ Catherine said gently. ‘I can see Leon cares for you very much.’

  He didn’t ‘care’ for her at all—he just wanted her, her body! ‘I think you have the wrong impression, Mrs Masters, there’s really nothing like that between us.’

  ‘Call me Catherine, please. I have a feeling we’re going to become good friends.’

  And Helen had the feeling they were going to be no such thing, even if Leon’s mother didn’t seem to be willing to believe that. She taxed Leon with it on the drive back to London after dinner.

  ‘Your mother thinks there’s something serious between us,’ she informed him crossly.

  He gave her a fleeting glance. ‘But there is. At least, I can’t see anything funny about the situation.’

  ‘I didn’t mean that and you know it. Apparently I’m the first “girl-friend” you’ve ever introduced to them. Now you must have known that would give them the wrong impression, and you assured me that they wouldn’t think anything like that,’ she added furiously.

  ‘Are you annoyed with me?’ he enquired calmly.

  ‘Of course I’m annoyed with you,’ she snapped. ‘Haven’t I just been saying as much?’

  ‘You’re beautiful when you’re angry,’ he murmured throatily.

  Helen gave an impatient sigh. ‘Will you stop changing the subject!’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ but his warm smile told her he was no such thing, his anger over her ring obviously forgotten. ‘I didn’t tell you because if I had you wouldn’t have gone with me. They liked you, by the way.’

  ‘I liked them too, but—’

  ‘Then what are you complaining about?’ he cut in in a bored voice.

  ‘I’m complaining about the fact that you deceived me, that you—’

  ‘Shut up, Helen,’ he ordered tersely. ‘I’ve never taken any other woman to meet my parents because I didn’t consider any of them suitable. I knew they would approve of you and so I took you to see them, that was all there was to it.’

  ‘You—you—’

  ‘Calm down, Helen. You enjoyed yourself, didn’t you?’

  ‘Yes,’ she admitted reluctantly.

  ‘Then that’s all that matters. Besides, it assured my parents that I do occasionally go out with presentable women.’

  ‘I’m sure all your women are presentable, most of them are beautiful actresses.’

  ‘Exactly. My parents don’t approve of actresses.’

  ‘Are you saying they approve of me?’ She couldn’t resist the question.

  ‘Unquestionably. If my father were thirty years younger he would want you for himself.’

  Helen blushed. ‘I didn’t like deceiving them in that way.’

  ‘Just forget about it,’ Leon said impatiently. ‘You’re the one making it seem more important than it actually was.’

  She fell silent after that, knowing that if she spoke again it would only be to argue with him.

  Leon stopped the Porsche outside her block of flats, and turned to look at her in the light given off by the street lamps. ‘I won’t come in. It’s been a long day and I have to be up early in the morning. You will think seriously about my suggestion and not just dismiss it out of hand?’

  Helen had forgotten all about it for the moment and his reminder brought back her panic. ‘I—I will think about it,’ she agreed.

  His hand moved to touch her cheek gently, his other hand moving quickly to cup the other side of her face as she tried to move away. ‘You already know the decision I want you to come to,’ he murmured, gazing into her eyes. ‘Can I kiss you, Helen?’ he groaned longingly. ’No! No, don’t flinch,’ he crooned at her instant withdrawal. ‘Just one little kiss, my beautiful Helen, that’s all I’m asking for.’

  ‘No—no one has kissed me since—since—’

  ‘Forget him, damn you! Think of me, me! Think of the way I want you, the way I need you. Surely one little kiss isn’t a lot to ask compared to what I would really like to do?’

  Her eyes were huge in her pale face. ‘It’s just that I—I haven’t—no one has—’

  ‘One little kiss, Helen,’ Leon pleaded gruffly. ‘Just the touch of my lips on yours, that’s all. It won’t be like the last time I kissed you. I’ll be gentle this time, Helen, I promise.’

  ‘All right.’ She squeezed her eyes tightly shut, raising her face. ‘All right,’ she repeated agonisingly.

  ‘Not the best invitation I’ve ever received,’ he said softly. ‘But the one I most want to hear.’

  Helen’s eyes flew open as she felt his lips move exploringly on hers, the kiss gentle as he had promised it would be, his lips tasting hers as if they were nectar. She could feel his hands trembling against her throat and a shudder run through his body as he fought for control of his senses.

  Finally he moved back, his eyes shining golden in the light from the street lamps. ‘Oh God, I want you!’ His breathing was ragged. ‘Please come to me when I get back? Please!’

  She swallowed hard. ‘I—’

  ‘I’ve never begged before, Helen,’ he groaned. ‘But I would get down on my knees to you right now if I thought it would influence you at all.’

  ‘No, Leon!’ Her eyes were distressed. ‘Please, don’t—don’t make yourself vulnerable where I’m concerned. I wouldn’t like to hurt you, I don’t like to hurt anyone.’

  ‘I’m already vulnerable,’ he said almost bitterly. ‘And in the most degrading way there is. I’m tied to you in the most soul-destroying way possible for a man. And at the moment there’s nothing I can do about it. But that kiss was promising, Helen. It’s all I have to get me through the next two weeks.’

  ‘It may be all you’ll ever have.’

  ‘I hope not,’ he said raggedly. ‘I sincerely hope not.’

  Helen scrambled out of the car and almost ran up to the flat. She was shaking by the
time she got inside. But she hadn’t moved away when he kissed her! She hadn’t responded either, but the revulsion hadn’t been there. She had felt strange, as if a sudden wave of emotion were washing over her, and it wasn’t an unpleasnt feeling.

  Jenny came through from the kitchen, a mug of coffee in either hand. ‘I was just making some,’ she explained with a smile. ‘I thought you weren’t going out—Goodness!’ She seemed to notice the paleness of Helen’s face for the first time. ‘Are you feeling all right?’

  Helen looked dazedly at her cousin. ‘Leon—Leon just kissed me,’ she breathed softly.

  Jenny frowned. ‘Leon did? But I thought he was in America.’

  ‘He came back to see me. I’m sorry about being nasty to you earlier, Jen, I was very tense.’

  ‘Forget it,’ Jenny dismissed impatiently. ‘Leon is in England?’

  ‘Just for today,’ Helen nodded, the hot coffee putting colour back into her cheeks.

  ‘He came back for a day?’ Jenny shook her head. ‘Is he mad?’

  ‘I think he must be,’ Helen said shakily. ‘And if he is so am I. I actually let him kiss me, Jen!’ Her eyes shone.

  ‘You did?’

  ‘Yes. And I—it was quite pleasant,’ she said wonderingly. ‘I—I quite liked it.’

  Jenny gave a choked laugh. ‘I don’t think you’re supposed to say a Leon Masters kiss was pleasant—or that you quite liked it, for that matter,’ she teased.

  Helen’s smile was only slightly strained. ‘Okay, it was more than pleasant or just nice,’ she admitted.

  ‘I don’t understand—’

  The telephone began ringing and Helen knew who it was even before she picked up the receiver. ‘Leon,’ she said huskily, conscious of Jenny’s curious stare.

  ‘Make the right decision, Helen,’ he told her, not bothering to confirm or deny her assumption that it was him.

  ‘Oh, Leon…’

  ‘I know we can make it, Helen. I know we can!’ he repeated fiercely.

  ‘You said you wouldn’t—’

  ‘I know, I know! Maybe I shouldn’t have kissed you after all. I know damn well I’m not going to get any sleep tonight—or any other night for the next two weeks, come to that. Be there when I get back or I don’t know what I’ll do. Probably come looking for you,’ he admitted ruefully. ‘I’ll tell Max to expect you, so don’t let me down.’ He put the receiver down with a click.