No More Lonely Nights

'In a way,' she capitulated, realising he meant to find out. 'He didn't like my job and gave me an ultimatum—him or my job. So we split up.'

'He must be a fool,' said Cass. 'What sort of ultimatum is that? What else did he expect you to do? You're well rid of him. I admire your taste.'

She looked blankly at him.

'You can't have cared tuppence about him or you wouldn't have chosen your job,' Cass said and she glared at him.

'How I felt about him had nothing to do with it! I just couldn't see why I should give up my job— for him, or any man.'

Cass smiled, his mouth crooked. 'That's what I meant. You obviously weren't that crazy about him in the first place, or he wouldn't have needed to hand out ridiculous ultimatums.'

She laughed scornfully. 'Oh, I see! You believe a woman in love loses all interest in everything else, especially a career? How old-fashioned can you get?'

'You can't compartmentalise love,' he murmured softly. 'It takes over everything else in your life, even your work, whether you're a man or a woman—and there's nothing old-fashioned about that, it's as up to date as tomorrow morning's paper.'

Sian gave a guilty start, remembering that she had written a colour piece about his home and family, and the aftermath of Annette's father's heart attack. Only a few hours and he would be reading it—and how would he react then?

Cass looked shrewdly into her confused green eyes, his brows going up. 'What now? Why are you looking at me like that?'

Flushed, she took refuge in temper. 'Stop trying to read my mind, damn you!'

'Are you afraid I can?' he asked in a lowered tone, and with a start she realised she was; she actually suspected he could tell from her face what she was thinking.

'No!' she said, far too quickly, with far too much emphasis, and he laughed in a distinctly satisfied way, but then their dessert arrived and Sian was able to steer the conversation into less personal channels. All the same, she was disturbed as he drove her home later. During dinner, they had come closer; far too close. She really felt that she was getting to know him and that he knew a lot about her, and even that he could get through her defences and understand what made her tick—and that was very worrying.

Seeing Louis again had vividly reminded her of the dangers of caring about a man. They became possessive, jealous, demanding—they wanted more than you cared to give, and you ended up getting hurt because of the impossible demands of both your man and your career. She still had a world to conquer; she was ambitious and wanted to climb in her career. She couldn't do that and tie herself to a man.

Then she glanced sideways and in the yellow glare of a street light saw Cass—his hard face in profile to her, his eyes hooded and his mouth a firm line. She saw more than that—she saw the gloss of power over him, the strength of his background, his wealth and influence.

And she laughed at herself. She was letting her imagination run riot. Cass wasn't seriously interested in her. He had taken her out tonight to make capital out of the latest gossip—to make people forget how he had been jilted, to soothe his ego over the humiliation of being left at the altar. She was just a means to an end, and if he seemed to know what she was thinking it was only because he was a clever, shrewd man, a skilled negotiator and manipulator who knew human beings, not merely women.

While she was arguing with herself over whether she wanted him or not, Cass was blissfully unaware of her. If he knew what she was thinking he would laugh at her, and she would deserve it. For a while, she had forgotten Annette—but he had wanted to marry Annette, and he must still be in love with her or he wouldn't have gone to so much trouble for her, even after she had left him at the altar.

Sian turned her head away, biting her lip. What a fool you are! she told herself. Grow up!

Cass pulled up outside her flat and turned to smile at her. 'Thank you for a very pleasant evening.'

'I hope it achieved what you wanted it to achieve,' Sian said tartly, and he laughed, as though not hearing the angry note in her voice.

'I saw one gossip columnist in the restaurant and I know he saw us. One is enough.'

'More than enough, I'd say,' Sian muttered, turning to get out of the car, but Cass caught her shoulder and casually pulled her back towards him before she knew what he was up to.

As he bent to kiss her she wildly hit out, meaning only to push him away. The sound of the slap as it landed on his cheek made both of them jump, but especially Sian, even more surprised than he was, since she hadn't intended to slap his face.

There was a dangerous pause, while she stared, aghast, at the spreading redness on his skin, and he stared back at her as if he couldn't believe she had actually dared to hit him.

Then he slammed her backwards against the seat, and kept her there with the weight of his body while he began to kiss her forcibly, his mouth angry and bruising. Sian struggled uselessly; he was far too strong for her and the kiss was no pleasure.

'I hate you, stop it!' she tried to say, but the words were muffled by his hard mouth.

Frustration and rage made her shake; a tear trickled from under her lids and then another. She wept with fury because she understood why he was so violent. It had nothing to do with her personally—her slap had simply reminded him of Annette and his humiliation when she had walked out on him. He was taking revenge on Sian as the nearest female and she bitterly resented it.

At last, breathing thickly, Cass lifted his head and she glared up at him. 'You make me sick,' she said, and he turned pale himself.

'I'm sorry, I lost my temper.'

'Don't bother to make excuses,' Sian said shakily, white and tear-stained and in a mood to bite him. 'Just let me out of here before I throw up. I've had enough of you and your damned ego! Why should I have to carry the can for Annette? It wasn't my fault she walked out on you, and I don't want to listen to any more of your explanations or apologies. I just want to get away from you and never set eyes on you again.'