The Threat of Love

He didn't argue. 'I'll drive you,' he said, turning to walk beside her as she purposefully made for the front door.

'No, thanks. I prefer to walk,' she said, coolly. 'Good for the digestion.'

'Then I'll walk you home,' he said at once.

'There's no need...' she protested.

'I can't let you leave here alone at this hour. If anything happened to you, your father would want my blood.' Gil waved her through the open door into the cloudless, spring night. It was so clear that you could almost count the stars, and a bright silvery moon hung low over London's crowded streets. 'A lovely night,' Gil murmured, closing the door behind them both.

Caro began to walk, uneasily aware of him walking at her side. Their footsteps rang crisply on the pavements, and above that noise she heard the rustling of the wind in the trees in the darkened park.

Even the traffic was hushed at this hour; few cars came through these very exclusive streets at night. There were lighted windows in some houses, but few sounds. They might have been alone on a desert island and she walked faster, wanting to get home, to get away from his disturbing presence.

Gil looked sideways at her profile as they walked under a street lamp and were illumined to each other by the hazy circle of yellowish light. She was aware of his scrutiny, but didn't show as much, her lashes down against her cheeks and her mouth obstinate.

'OK, say it,' he suddenly said and the sharp note in his voice made her jump.

'Say what?'

They had walked on into the shadows again, and they had almost reached her home—she could see the garden trees, the chalice-like, ivory tipped with pink buds of the magnolia, ghostly and enchanting in moonlight.

'Do you think I wasn't aware what you were thinking?' Gil ground out, halting in his tracks and seizing her arm to swing her round to face him. 'You've been giving off waves of disapproval all evening. I'm beginning to recognise that look, you little prude! You can stop it right now! Miranda has gone back to her husband—I hope that's OK with you?'

'She's gone back home?' Caro said huskily, her eyes clearing, and Gil glared at her, his fingers biting into her arm.

'That's right. Happy now?'

'Obviously you're not,' she muttered. 'And you're hurting my arm! Will you let go of me?'

He released her arm, but, when she tried to walk on, stepped into her path, blocking her way and radiating threat.

'How I feel about Miranda and Colin is my business, not yours. You don't know anything about me, or them and—' He broke off, breathing fiercely, staring down at her. 'You have a maddening way of staring at people and looking superior, do you know that? Stop it! What do you think gives you the right to sit in judgement on me?'

'You're a mind-reader, are you?' Caro muttered, eyeing him with dislike. 'Well, I hope you're reading my mind now. It will save me the trouble of telling you what I think of you!'

She pushed him away, using all her strength, and took him so much by surprise that he lost his balance and floundered back into a hedge. Caro didn't wait to see if he was hurt; she started to run, and reached the driveway of her home before Gil caught up with her. He launched himself at her in a rugby tackle, grabbing her shoulders with both hands and knocking her sideways.

She reeled backwards until she hit a tree trunk and could go no further.

'Get your hands off me!' she whispered, her breathing

rapid after running so hard. 'Are you crazy? Chasing

me along the street—'

'That was what I was meant to do, wasn't it?' he said, his mouth a cynical curve. 'You ran, expecting me to run after you.'

'No!' she denied, but felt a strange confusion—that wasn't what she had wanted, was it? For him to follow, catch her?

Gil smiled crookedly. 'Sure about that? People talk about men being primitive—but it's women who have the primitive instincts; they love to run away and have men chasing after them.'

'If that's your excuse, you can forget it!' Caro hated the way he was smiling. 'I certainly don't want you chasing me. Your lady-friend may enjoy being chased, she may like to play primitive games, but I don't!'

She shouldn't have brought Miranda into it again; it made him angrier. His face tightened, his skin dark.

'That's enough!' he snapped, holding her against the tree, his grip unbreakable. 'Why are you so obsessed with Miranda, anyway? You get in digs about her whenever you get the chance. I'd almost think you were jealous of her!'

Caro went scarlet, her whole body reacting in shock. She was appalled, yet she couldn't get out a single word to deny it.