Sweet Vixen

Black brows arched. 'Do you think I'm weak-minded?'

'Not at all, you're still free of the silken trap, aren't you?' she retorted, rattled that she had let herself be drawn into a discussion that had crossed the borders into the per­sonal.

'You mean marriage? So you see it as a trap, too. Was that what your marriage was?'

Her withdrawal was instant and obvious, like a snail shrinking from a probing finger.

'Was it?'

'I don't wish to discuss it.' Not when she was trying to put it all behind her. Not with him, he was far too skilful at recognising evasions.

'Why not?'

'Because it's none of your business.' Unfortunately her adamant refusal to satisfy his curiosity only succeeded in arousing it further. She should have been off-hand, joked about it. He was such a dominant man that a sign of weakness was like a red rag to a bull.

'He was a painter, Julie said—-your husband. I would like to see some of his work.'

'Why?' Sharply.

'Because art is one of my interests, a special interest. Also it might help me peel away another of your layers.'

'Why should you care?' she demanded. 'I thought I wasn't your type.'

He crushed a head of jasmine in his fist and inhaled the fragrance; not a gesture that a lesser man would have made. Much as she hated to admit it Sarah knew his sensitivity was innate, not a pose. He was genuinely perceptive and alive to the subtle variations of human response. That made him so much more dangerous as an opponent—he could follow the complexity of the feminine mind.

'My mind is always open.'

'Always? Too busy to keep union hours; you must be a success.' Something drove her on in spite of herself.

'When you get to my level, you don't have to belong to a union,' he said levelly, eyes watchful. 'And I balance my books, thank you.'

'I bet you do, you're an expert at juggling figures.'

There was an icy silence, during which he levered himself slowly upright. 'Be very careful, Sarah,' he warned softly. 'My patience isn't infinite; you are begin­ning to annoy me.' And then with steel unsheathed: 'Is that what all this personal antagonism is about? The fact that I enjoy the company of women and they enjoy mine?'

'That has nothing to do with it!' Even as she said it she was aware that it was a lie.

'But you do disapprove of me, that much is patently obvious. And since I don't think you can quarrel with my professional abilities, it can only be my personal conduct that doesn't meet with your impeccably high standards.'

Sarah stiffened angrily at the sarcasm. 'Just because I don't fall over myself at your charm—'

'Oh, so you admit that I have charm, we're making progress,' he sneered. 'Is it me you resent, or the sex in general? Or sex in general?'

'Don't be so disgusting—'

'So you think sex is disgusting,' he deftly twisted her words to his own purpose, looking at her with a cold, clinical interest. 'Is that what was wrong with your marriage?'

Every time she retreated he was there, baying at her heels. Now she rounded on him, fiercely.

'I told you it was none of your business. Is a woman not a woman simply because she doesn't appreciate your overblown attractions!'

'Overblown?' His thin smile held a glitter of real annoyance. 'How Victorian of you, you're the one who's out of date. Coming from a woman, and I use the term advisedly, who is so afraid of her own femininity that she deliberately de-sexes herself, I must take that as a compli­ment.'

The remark, with its grain of unarguable truth, flicked her on the raw and her eyes flashed green sparks of temper.

'And I should be complimented by your interest? I suppose I'm impressed that you get as much pleasure from dressing women up as you do from undressing them!'

The instant lift of his head was like that of a hound catching the scent of his quarry and Sarah swallowed nervously as the lean body went into fluid motion, circling slowly around in front of her, coming to a stop a few feet away.