She gasped at her stupidity. ‘Don’t be disgusting!’
‘Oh, Helen, I—’
‘Don’t you “oh, Helen” me,’ she snapped. ‘You—you Casanova!’ she accused hotly.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘I don’t know why you made this telephone call, Mr Masters, but I certainly don’t wish to speak to you. You’re nothing but a—’
‘Helen, will you calm down and tell me why you’re so angry.’
‘Crystal Graves,’ she said pointedly.
‘What about her?’ His voice sounded guarded now.
‘Oh, don’t pretend with me, Leon. I know you’ve been seeing her.’
‘I happen to be working with her,’ he said dryly.
‘When I said you’d been seeing her I didn’t mean workwise. News like that travels, Leon, it was in the newspapers today.’
‘I can’t discuss this with you over the telephone, I want to talk to you properly. Can I come over?’
‘You—you’re here, in London?’
‘At my apartment,’ he confirmed. ‘I flew in half an hour ago.’
No wonder he had sounded so near! ‘But I thought you were away for two or three weeks?’ She despised herself for her curiosity, she should just have rung off and refused to answer any more of his calls.
‘We can talk about that when I get there. Give me fifteen minutes.’
‘Oh, but—’ He had rung off!
She glared indignantly at the telephone, as if it was that inanimate object’s fault she was so angry. Fifteen minutes he had said, fifteen minutes during which she would have to dress and find some way of drying her hair.
She was just towelling it dry when the doorbell rang ten minutes later. It was bad enough that he should be here at all, but that he should be early…! She wrapped the towel around her damp hair, running her hands down her denim-clad legs. If Leon was expecting her to be all dressed up for him he was sadly mistaken; her denims and shirt were hardly feminine, let alone attractive.
The doorbell rang again, and she wrenched the door open to see Leon standing on the doorstep, a tanned Leon who obviously hadn’t spent all the last week working. His hair was very blond, his tawny eyes appraising as he looked down at her. Helen pushed the door open further for him to enter, turning back into the lounge without saying a word.
‘You got dressed.’ He sounded disappointed, following her into the room.
‘Of course I did,’ she said abruptly. ‘Now, what are you doing here?’
‘What a greeting!’ he taunted. ‘I’m here to see you.’
‘That’s obvious,’ Helen said dryly, indicating herself as the only other person in the room.
‘I meant here in England.’ His eyes were narrowed now, assessing.
Her mouth curled back in contempt. ‘Don’t try to tell me you flew all the way back from America just to see me.’
‘That’s exactly what I have done. I managed to get a flight very early this morning and I have another one going back early tomorrow morning. That way I should get back before they start filming tomorrow.’
Helen frowned. ‘Is this true?’
‘Yes,’ he nodded.
‘But—but why?’