The Sex War

'Nasty,' he said, grinning.

'Finish your spaghetti,' she advised. 'You've deserved it. You ought to eat fish, really, for brain power.'

'Spaghetti works even better,' Chris assured her, turning his attention to his plate.

They walked back to the office in brilliant sunshine, waves of heat coming up from the pavements, the cars driving past giving off metallic flashes of reflected light. Charles was going to be over the moon, thought Lindsay. Chris had come up with his best idea ever.

All that afternoon she was caught up in the maelstrom which Chris's brainwave had caused. She didn't have a chance to do any of the routine work, she was too busy discussing the details of the campaign with Charles and the other top executives of the company. Chris always left such minor matters to other people. Having done his part, he collapsed in a chair like a rag doll and smiled beatifically on them, saying almost nothing. Nobody minded, he could do no wrong today.

While she talked and listened, Lindsay's mind kept wandering away to the subject that was engrossing her secret attention, but she refused to let herself dwell on Daniel's proposition. He had given her until Thursday to make a decision, and it was already Tuesday, which left her only two days. Every time she faced that fact, she felt an icy dart of anxiety. He had left her without options, she couldn't think of any way of saving Stephen from bankruptcy. Glancing at Chris, she wished she had his inspiration—she could do with a brainwave herself.

If Daniel had walked out on her, he wouldn't want to hurt and humiliate her now, but she had committed the unforgivable sin by walking out on him. He might have lost interest in her, he might have regretted getting married at all, but his ego couldn't take the shock of having her end their marriage. That had been Daniel's privilege, his choice—he had decided to marry her in the first place and he felt aggrieved because she had had the temerity to leave him.

Lindsay had no doubts about his motives. He was using her brother as a weapon against her. He must hate her, she thought, staring at the ceiling. It hurt, she felt cold and on the point of tears, but however she felt she still had to make up her mind what to do, and there was no one she could confide in, it would be too painful to tell anyone. This was one decision she had to make alone, without advice.

Aston rang just before she left the office. 'I'm working late tonight, but tomorrow should be an easier day. Could we have dinner?'

'Love to,' Lindsay said warmly. She wished she dared tell him about Daniel's blackmail, but what could he do?

'Miss you,' he said softly and she smiled.

'Same here. Don't work too hard. I'll see you tomorrow.'

'I'll pick you up at the flat at seven,' he said before ringing off. Lindsay put down the phone, sighing. She made her way home in the rush-hour traffic, her clothes sticking to her again, the heatwave showed no sign of diminishing. People were irritable, impatient, flushed, many of them showing signs of sun-worship, their faces and arms reddened. Men were in shirt-sleeves, tie-less. Women were in thin summer dresses, their legs bare. Lindsay wondered if she looked the way they did; her skin beaded with perspiration, her eyes tired, her movements lethargic. That was how she felt, she had no energy at all, she just wanted to flop out and keep still. This was no weather to be in a city, she longed to be on a beach.

When she got back to the flat she showered and put on a brief white cotton tunic cut on simple lines; the neck low and rounded, the hem just above her knees and the sides split for easy movement. It had a Grecian look, she had bought it in Athens on a holiday a year ago but had rarely worn it because the cotton was so thin it was more like gauze and totally transparent. It was not a dress she could wear to the office or in the streets, but it was perfect for relaxing in weather like this; the filmy material floated around her as she walked, she felt free and at ease.

She had a glass of lime-juice and a tiny salad, then lay on the couch listening to Spanish guitar music.

The doorbell went, and her heart skipped a beat, then hammered inside her ribcage, making her feel sick. She stumbled to the floor, dropping her book. She knew who it was before she got to the front door of the flat and opened it—every instinct shrieked a warning.

He leaned against the door; very tall and powerful, a lean-hipped, unsmiling man with narrowed grey eyes that openly took in every detail of her appearance, travelling from her curling, still damp hair to the quivering curve of her pink lips, down over the curve of her body in the far too revealing, gauzy dress. Lindsay bore that look with nervous defiance, her chin up.

'I'm busy!'

Daniel smiled with dry sarcasm and walked past her with such cool confidence that she made no attempt to stop him. Closing the door slowly, she followed and found him standing in the sitting-room, looking at the book on the floor, the empty glass. Without a word he went over to the record player and lifted the arm. The guitar music stopped mid-beat.

'Do you mind? You've got a nerve!' Lindsay burst out, and he turned to survey her with a crooked little smile.

'I like the dress.' But it wasn't at the dress that he was looking, it was at what was under it, and Lindsay felt her skin burn. Helplessly, she wished she had put on something else, she might as well be naked.

'What's the matter?' Daniel mocked, watching her with eyes which pinned her to the spot.

'What do you want?' she asked shakily, and he laughed.

'Care to re-phrase the question?'

'Aren't you witty?' she muttered, hating him. 'You know what I mean—why are you here?'

'I can't keep away from you,' said Daniel with the same mockery, and her temper flared.

'You've managed it for two years!'

His smile hardened and the grey eyes were fierce with an emotion she couldn't decipher. 'I wasn't coming crawling after you on my knees.'

Her throat tightened. 'What's different now?' she flung back at him, refusing to believe the force she heard in his voice.

'Now it's going to be you on your knees,' he said through his teeth, his eyes harsh, and she went cold from head to foot. 'I only deal on my own terms,' Daniel added. 'You didn't think I'd accept yours? You left me, I wasn't chasing after you, but now you'll come back knowing I own you.'