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She sobered. ‘There doesn’t seem to be a lot to laugh at.’
‘Not since Michael.’
‘No,’ Helen agreed abruptly. ‘I think I see your sexy actor,’ she changed the subject, indicating Leon Masters as he stood across the room.
Jenny followed her line of vision. ‘Oh boy, I just have to get an introduction. I’ll ask Brent. Coming?’
‘No, thanks,’ Helen grimaced. ‘I don’t want to listen to how wonderful he thinks he is.’
‘He may not be conceited.’
‘Want to bet?’
‘No,’ Jenny laughed. ‘Although Matt and Brent think he’s great.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, love, but as far as I’m concerned that’s no recommendation.’
‘Okay,’ her cousin shrugged. ‘You’ll be all right?’
‘I think I’ll be safe,’ she teased.
‘See you later!’
Helen watched with amusement as Jenny persuaded her boss to introduce her to their host, smiling as Jenny proceeded to try and dazzle him with her beauty. From the way Leon Masters listened to her with lazy amusement she didn’t appear to be succeeding.
Suddenly he looked up and those tawny coloured eyes met hers across the smoke-filled room. She shifted uncomfortably under that steady gaze, her violet eyes shadowed. She turned away, her cheeks fiery red. The look in his eyes had been insolent and assessing, and she had felt almost naked as his gaze ran slowly over her.
She looked back at him, her nervousness lessening slightly as she saw he was now concentrating on Jenny’s bubbly conversation. At least Jenny would be pleased.
Leon Masters looking at her like that had unnerved her. He had looked at her as if he saw her as an attractive woman, something she hadn’t felt for a very long time. Oh, she was passable to look at, quite pretty if you liked small, dark-haired women. But Leon Masters looking at her like that had made her feel totally feminine.
He was hot property in the acting world, and had been for the last fifteen years. He was constantly working, his acting superb. She had just seen him in a play on television where he had been almost unrecognisable in the role of the bumbling idiot, a character far removed from the suave man of experience he was in reality. He looked totally the dominant male tonight, dressed completely in black from head to foot, the black silk shirt clinging to his powerful shoulders and chest, the trousers fitted snugly to his hips and thighs.
It was obvious that most of the women here were attracted to his rugged magnetism, and Helen supposed he could be called very attractive with his over-long sun-bleached blond hair, piercing tawny-coloured eyes set over a hawk-like nose, firm mouth with a full sensuous lower lip, the lines of experience beside nose and mouth that added, not detracted, to his looks, and the lithe masculinity of his tall powerful body. With the exception of Helen, there wasn’t a woman in the room who wouldn’t give anything to be his partner for the evening, and yet he appeared to be alone.
At thirty-four he had never been married, to Helen’s knowledge, and looking at him now as he flirted easily with Jenny and another girl who had joined them she thought it wasn’t hard to work out why he had remained single. Why marry one woman when there were hundreds, thousands, for the taking? A wife might be a tie he didn’t need; there had certainly never been a shortage of women in his life.
‘Enjoying yourself?’
Helen turned to smile at Matthew Jarvis. ‘Are you?’
He gave a husky laugh. ‘I asked you first.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s okay.’
‘You look fantastic’
‘Meaning I don’t usually?’ she teased. Matthew Jarvis was a man in his mid-thirties, very good-looking in an obvious sort of way, dark-haired, blue-eyed, and yet he left her cold, like every other man she had met the last two years. No man could touch her now. Except … Leon Masters had briefly got through the shell she had erected about her emotions—and she didn’t like him any the more for doing so.
‘Hey, you know I didn’t mean that. You just look different tonight.’
Helen grimaced. ‘I borrowed one of Jenny’s dresses.’
‘And it looks great on you. Where is your lovely cousin tonight—My God!’ he had obviously seen Jenny. ‘What’s she nearly got on?’
She couldn’t help laughing at his expression, a light tinkling sound that caused many heads to turn in their direction, including Jenny’s and the man who stood at her side. Jenny grinned, waving to them both, and Helen smiled back, the smile fading as she saw Leon Masters was looking at her too. She met that look for several long seconds before turning away.
‘It suits her,’ she answered Matt.
‘I know it suits her, I just don’t like it.’
Helen frowned. ‘Does it matter what you like?’
‘You’ve never approved of me, have you, Helen?’ he said slowly. ‘Why?’
‘It isn’t anything personal, Matt. I don’t like or trust any of your sex.’
‘That’s a challenge few men could resist,’ drawled a deep voice from behind her.
Helen spun round to confront Leon Masters, her cousin standing at his side. They had come upon them unnoticed and Helen resented his intrusion into her conversation. She looked the actor steadily in the eye, willing herself not to be unnerved by the warmth of his gaze. ‘Do you enjoy a challenge, Mr Masters?’ she asked coolly.
He shrugged, his gaze unblinking. ‘What man doesn’t?’
’This is my cousin Helen, Leon,’ Jenny introduced.
‘Cool Helen,’ Leon murmured softly, still looking at her.
His tawny eyes on her were starting to make her feel uncomfortable. ‘How did you guess?’ she asked.
‘It wasn’t difficult,’ he taunted.
She was starting to feel hot now. Why did he keep staring at her like that? Jenny and Matt might just as well not have been there for all the notice he took of them.
‘Let’s dance, Jenny,’ Matt suggested, obviously taking the hint. ‘We aren’t needed here.’
‘Good idea,’ she accepted, smiling into Helen’s shocked face.
‘Oh, but—–’
A hand clamped about her wrist. ‘I’ll take care of Helen for you,’ Leon Masters said smoothly. ‘But don’t come looking for us when you’ve finished, we won’t be here.’
‘Watch Helen,’ Matt advised lightly. ‘The coolness goes right through.’
‘Is that true, Helen?’ Leon Masters asked once they had gone, moving to stand in front of her, his closeness blocking out the rest of the room.
‘The name is West,’ she said tightly, aware of the tangy smell of his aftershave and a much more potent smell, a totally male aroma that attacked the senses. Or at least it would have done if she weren’t totally immune to all men. ‘Mrs West.’
He raised his eyebrows. ‘Your cousin didn’t tell me you were married.’
‘Just what did she tell you about me?’ she flashed, her mouth tightening.
‘Not a lot, I must admit. I didn’t see any husband with you when you arrived.’
‘I wasn’t aware you’d seen us arrive.’
‘I never miss out on a beautiful woman.’
’I hope you aren’t referring to me,’ she said stiffly.
‘Your cousin is lovely, but she doesn’t have your fragility, your wraithlike beauty. I noticed you as soon as you came in.’
She wondered how many other women he had told the same thing this evening. ‘Am I supposed to be flattered?’
‘Not particularly. You really meant it when you said you don’t like men.’ He sounded surprised.
‘Did you think I didn’t?’
‘Some women like to pretend they feel that way. For some reason they imagine it makes them more interesting to men.’
Her top lip curled back. ‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I’m the real thing.’
‘Except for your husband, of course.’
‘Sorry?’ she frowned.
‘You must like your husband.’
‘If you say so,’ she agreed tautly.
‘Is he here with you?’
‘No.’
‘In that case, would you like to leave?’
Helen was taken aback. ‘Are only single people and married couples allowed at your parties, Mr Masters?’
‘Hardly,’ he gave a husky laugh, his teeth firm and white against his tanned skin. ‘I wasn’t suggesting you leave alone, I was asking you to leave with me.’
Helen looked puzzled. ‘But this is your party.’
Leon shrugged nonchalantly. ‘I want to leave. I thought you wanted to come with me.’
‘You thought I—–! Why on earth should you think that?’ she demanded angrily, curious in spite of herself.
‘Didn’t you?’ he quirked one blond eyebrow, his superior height making her feel small and strangely fragile.
‘Certainly not!’ she told him crossly. ‘Whatever gave you that impression?’
‘You did.’
’I did?’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m sure you’re mistaken, Mr Masters. I have no wish to leave here or anywhere else with you.’
‘That isn’t what your eyes were saying a few minutes ago.’
Helen had to tilt her head right back to look at him. ‘Does every woman who so much as looks at you have to be attracted to you?’
He grinned down at her. ‘No. But I’m attracted to you, cool Helen.’
‘Don’t you mean “cold” Helen?’
‘Oh no,’ he said huskily, intimately. ‘Cool is a temperature only just off normal, I’d like to think you could become the latter.’
‘I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr Masters, but I think cold is a more suitable description.’
Leon frowned. ‘Has some man hurt you, is that it?’
Helen stiffened. ‘Men don’t get close enough to me to be allowed to cause pain. Now, if you’ll excuse me …’ she brushed past him.
His hand snaked out and caught her upper arm, his lazy indolence belied by the unexpected strength of his grip. He was in the peak of physical condition, another thing that surprised her about him. His tawny eyes were narrowed and assessing now. ‘How old are you?’ he queried softly.
Her violet eyes flashed her dislike. ‘My age is irrelevant to the way I feel.’
‘Twenty? Twenty-one?’ He ignored her outburst.
‘Twenty-two, actually,’ she snapped.
‘Such a great age,’ he mocked. ‘What happened, did he walk out on you?’
‘He?’ she said sharply, a nervous pulse in her throat.
His hand slid caressingly down her arm to catch her hand, turning it over to look at the narrow gold band on the third finger. ‘Your husband.’ He lifted her head, the startling tawny eyes all-seeing. ‘Did he leave you?’
Her breath caught in her throat at the directness of the question. ‘You could say that, Mr Masters,’ her mouth turned back. ‘He died.’
Leon frowned. ‘Your husband is dead?’ He didn’t sound as if he believed her.
‘I would hardly lie about something like that,’ she answered waspishly, shaking off his hold on her. She brushed past him and this time he made no effort to stop her.
She had to get out of here, had to leave. Talking about Michael had brought back memories she would rather forget, memories that could prove too painful for her peace of mind. She left the apartment and the building in a daze, just wanting to get away from taunting tawny eyes and a cruel mocking mouth.
Leon Masters had no right to intrude on her private hurt, no right to pierce the armour she had wrapped about herself. It was months since anyone had questioned her about Michael, mainly because of Jenny interceding on her behalf. She obviously hadn’t thought it necessary where Leon Masters was concerned, which wasn’t surprising. Who would have thought he would even speak to her, let alone get so personal?
Unless of course Jenny had just decided it was time she stopped protecting her as far as Michael was concerned. After all, it was two years since it had happened, two years in which the pain should have lessened. And yet it hadn’t! If only she had been able to cry about it she might have been able to snap out of this numbness, but tears had eluded her, leaving her with her bitterness.
She shivered as she felt a velvet jacket slipped about her shoulders, a familiar smell of tangy aftershave drifting up from the soft grey material. Gentle hands moved her hair from its confinement in the jacket collar, and she looked up to meet searching tawny eyes.
‘I didn’t think you were lying, Helen,’ Leon told her softly, pulling the lapels of the jacket more firmly about her. ‘You’re just very young to have been married and widowed.’
