Fire Beneath the Ice

What an earth must he be thinking? She was supposed to be a married woman, after all, and she had practically aegged-- "It won't be long and we'll be out of here, 3K?"

"Yes." Her voice was small and bewildered and the sound of it made the harsh, masculine face in front of her tighten savagely, the hard features setting into stone. She had lain there and asked him to make love to her.

Her mind shouted the accusation at her. And he had _wanted to--well, what man wouldn't if it was offered so outrageously?

But he had had the moral strength to turn away, his disgust at her wantonness evident in every line of that handsome face. She couldn't bear this humiliation, she couldn't. The thoughts raced frantically through her mind as she tried desperately to pull herself together, fighting for the control that had seen her through so many difficulties and traumas in the last few years.

"I..." Her voice faltered and she took a deep breath before trying again.

She had to retrieve this situation, dredge up some dignity from somewhere.

"I feel much better now, thank you, it was the panic..."

"Panic?" He looked at her blankly for a moment and then nodded slowly, his mouth tightening still more. "You were scared to death, I know that, but I just want to say--' " How long will it be before we are out? “She had seen his devastating brand of honesty once or twice in the three days she had worked for him, but she wished with all her heart he could let it slip just once. She couldn't talk about what had so nearly happened now, and if he tried to take the blame through perverse male pride it would make things ten times worse. A post-mortem at this moment was more than she could take.

He stared at her for a long, silent moment, the narrowed cold eyes tight on her face, and then took the cue she had given him with a cool equanimity that made her tangled thoughts seem even more confused.

"A couple of minutes more, no longer."

She nodded weakly. Suddenly her safe, ordered little world had turned upside-down and she was stunned with the unexpectedness of it. The two or three minutes it took for the lift to resume its downward journey seemed

_like two or three hours, and for the whole time her heart was thudding against her breasts so hard it hurt. Not a word was spoken but the silence was deafening, banging against her ear-drums until she felt like screaming.

But nothing had actually happened. She forced herself to think logically, to apply reason to the shame and embarrassment. But he had known. He had known she wanted him to kiss her. What should she do?

She glanced across at Wolf’s stony face as he stood leaning against the far side of the lift, his eyes half closed and his body seemingly relaxed.

This time the lift started smoothly, gliding down to the ground floor and opening its doors with silky obedience. As she followed Wolf out to his

Mercedes in its reserved spot just outside the main entrance, she contemplated, for a crazy moment, telling him the truth, but as he opened the passenger door of his car for her to enter one look at his dark face convinced her she didn't have the nerve. It might persuade him that he hadn't got a potential adulteress in his office, but if he knew she had deliberately misled him, secured the job on a whopper of a lie. And he hadn't liked her defence of Mike; that was most certainly another nail in her coffin. She swallowed painfully.

"Your address?" His tone was clipped and short, and after she had given it she slid into the beautiful Mercedes and sat huddled tensely in the seat as he joined her, his face cold.

"Could you try and relax a little?" They had been travelling in silence for some minutes and she started violently as his voice, abrupt and deep, sounded at her side. "I'm beginning to feel like some sort of pervert with you sitting halfway up the window like that."

"What?" As she glanced at the large area of vacant space on the right-hand side of her seat, she realised she was indeed perched against the side of the car in a manner that he could well term insulting, and she slid quickly into the middle of the seat, her face naming. Great. Now he'd think she was a split personality too!

One minute a shameless temptress and the next the original shrinking violet.

"I'm sorry, I didn't realise."

"I'm not sure if that makes it worse or better," he said drily, with one swift, piercing glance at her red face. "Look, I don't want anything to spoil our working relationship, Lydia--' " It won't. “The reply was immediate as she cut off his voice. She couldn't talk about it, she just couldn't Somehow the whole incident ha

d opened up another side to him that had her tingling all over and, although the feeling wasn't unpleasant, in the circumstances it was intensely humiliating. He had rejected her with apparently the minimum of effort and that cool, devastatingly clear mind wasn't in the least affected. But she--she closed her eyes against her own weakness--she was aware of every tiny movement he made, of his strong, capable hands on the steering-wheel, his long, lean legs and powerful thighs... “Good. “She felt his glance on her face again but didn't look at him.

"You turn right here." She was unutterably thankful this nightmare journey would end soon.

"Then left at the corner ." He followed her instructions without speaking again, and when they drew up outside her house some minutes later she realised her hands were clenched together so tightly her fingers were numb.

"Thank you for the lift--' she began primly, fumbling for her handbag at her feet, but he had already opened his door, moving round the car and helping her out with _an old-fashioned courtesy that was all the more seductively attractive for being entirely natural.

"Thank you--' she began again, only to be interrupted a second time as

Hannah's bright little voice called to her from the top step seconds before her tiny daughter bounded across the three or four feet of paved front garden and into her arms.

"Mummeeee!" Hannah's voice was ecstatic.

"Mrs. Thomson next door says I can have one of her kittens for my very own.