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In her mind’s eye she saw the sleek silver BMW glide out of the traffic stream and draw up opposite.
‘So far as I’m aware it’s not a criminal offence,’ he added sarcastically.
Biting her lip, knowing she had to keep her composure, she said levelly, ‘Perhaps you’ll tell me why you went to so much trouble?’
‘For several reasons.’ He slipped a hand into his pocket.
As she gazed at him he reached over and clasped her right wrist, making her jump convulsively. ‘I wanted to return this.’
Looking down at the gold bracelet he’d snapped on like a handcuff, she stammered, ‘Th-thank you. I hadn’t realised I’d lost it.’
‘You didn’t lose it,’ he admitted coolly. ‘I took it from your wrist.’
‘Did you learn how to do that in the back streets of Piraeus?’ The question was out before she could prevent it.
Just for a moment he looked nettled, then the anger was swiftly masked. ‘I did, as a matter of fact. But though I and my brothers and sisters often went barefoot, our parents managed to feed us and keep a roof over our heads without the necessity for stealing.’
Staring at him with eyes that had turned darker and cloudy, she asked, ‘Why did you take my bracelet?’ In spite of all her efforts her voice shook a little. ‘You must have had a reason?’
‘Oh, I had. Depending on the situation, I decided I might need an entrée, some legitimate excuse for knocking at your door.
‘You see, I couldn’t rest until I knew how things stood between you and Leighton. If he’d driven straight off, I would have let things ride until tomorrow, but when he came in with you I began to wonder if I’d been wrong in my assumption that you were no more than friends.
‘Just as I was about to come over and break up whatever was going on, the door opened…’ His voice soft but lethal, Zan added, ‘When I saw him kiss you, I could have cheerfully broken his neck.’
Fear once again stifling her, she jumped up.
With one cat-supple movement he was on his feet and standing over her, his dark face only inches away from her own. ‘I meant what I said, Annis. From now on I intend to be the only man in your life.’
‘If you think after all you’ve…’ Abruptly she halted the rush of bitter words, biting her inner lip until the lesser pain made the larger more bearable.
The past was best left alone. Nothing she, or Zan Power, for that matter, could do or say would alter a thing.
When she had herself under control, she carried on with icy composure, ‘You don’t seem to understand. There’s no way I’d ever get to even like you.’
‘I don’t want you to like me. Liking is such an insipid, bloodless emotion. I want you to want me. To be as crazy for me as I am for you.’
Her heart racing with suffocating speed, she protested, ‘You’re quite mad.’
‘I might be at that,’ he admitted. ‘But it’s such a wonderful, exhilarating madness that I never want it to end.’
His voice roughened by passion, he went on, ‘I can’t wait to have you in my arms, in my bed, in my life…’
Then more quietly, ‘But I won’t try to rush you. I’ll give you time to get used to the idea. All I want at the moment is a promise that from now on you won’t see any other man.’
Meeting him again out of the blue was a strange enough coincidence, but that he should feel so strongly about her was incredible, almost unbelievable.
Yet she had to believe it. By some cruel twist of fate this man who had torn her whole world apart was back in her life and, apparently obsessed by her, intending to stay.
Somehow she had to find a way of getting rid of him now. Tonight. Before this madness had time to grow and flourish.
‘I can’t give you any such promise.’ She tried to speak calmly, decisively. ‘Apart from any other consideration, you were wrong in your assumption that Stephen and I are just friends. We’ve been lovers for some time now.’
Zan’s olive-skinned face seemed to pale, the skin tightening over the strong bone-structure, as though her declaration was a knife she’d stabbed him with.
With a short, sharp sigh he echoed her earlier thought. ‘Well, I can’t alter what’s happened in the past… But from now on you’re mine. Don’t ever forget that, Annis.’
Running his fingers into her silken hair, he took her face between his palms, and bent his dark head. His lips were firm and sure on her mouth, light, yet completely possessive.
She was still standing rooted to the spot when the latch clicked behind him.
Faintly she heard a door slam, an engine start, and his car draw away. But it was a long time before, moving like some zombie, she went to lock up and reset the safety-chain.
That fleeting kiss had shocked her to the core. Rocked her world. Nothing would ever be quite the same again.
Totally exhausted, she crept straight off to bed and fell asleep almost as soon as her head touched the pillow. But, though she slept, it was a shallow, restless sleep, haunted by a darkly arrogant face that both repelled and attracted her.
She awoke heavy-eyed and unrefreshed, that same face still effortlessly dominating her mind. Making all her hatred and anger surface. Bringing all the previous night’s fear flooding back in a tide.
But she must try to keep a sense of proportion, she reminded herself sharply. Zan Power couldn’t make her do anything she didn’t want to do.
And perhaps he was already having second thoughts? After flaring up, his sudden passion might have flickered out, like a fire lit in the wrong place.
The best thing, maybe the only thing she could do was carry on as if nothing untoward had occurred, as if he hadn’t turned her whole world upside down yet again, and see what happened.
Dressed in a smart charcoal suit and crisp white blouse, lightly made-up, her hair in its usual smooth chignon, she was almost ready to leave for work when the doorbell chimed.
Expecting the postman, she went to answer.
A young sandy-haired man wearing a green coat with ‘Jay’s, Florist’ embroidered in red on the lapel said a cheerful, ‘Good morning,’ and, handing her a huge bouquet, went off whistling, despite the cold, grey day.
The long-stemmed, dark red roses, scented and velvety, were exquisite. Hot-house blooms like those must have cost a king’s ransom, Annis thought dazedly. Stephen, bless him, had got carried away.
Nestling among the glossy leaves was a small envelope. Opening it, she took out the slip of pasteboard. Written in a strong black scrawl on the gilt-edged card was one word. Zan.
Shock held her rigid for a moment, then, tearing the card in two, she dropped the pieces in the waste-paper basket as if they were stinging nettles.
Unable to bring herself to destroy the roses, after a moment’s thought she picked up the bouquet and headed for the door once more.
Mrs Neilson, her middle-aged neighbour, was just getting about again after an operation, and Annis knocked most days to enquire if any shopping was needed.
None was this morning, but at the sight of the flowers Mrs Neilson’s drawn face lit up. ‘My dear, they’re beautiful!’ she exclaimed. ‘How very kind of you.’
Wishing she could dispose of Zan Power as easily, Annis walked to the Tube station, girding her loins to face what a strange premonition warned her was going to be a fraught day.
CHAPTER TWO
JOINING the Friday morning rush, Annis caught a train to Oxford Circus then hurried the few blocks to her Regent Street office, a cramped first-floor room from which she ran Help, her own small temp business.
She employed ten women of diverse ages from varied walks of life, each with the willingness and ability to do several different jobs.
Requests for secretarial, nursing, housekeeping, cooking and catering help were the most common. But she and her staff could, and did, fill a variety of other roles.
Having unlocked the narrow, slightly shabby street door squeezed between a boutique and a video shop, she climbed the uncarpeted stairs and let herself into her office. Two wooden chairs and a desk were its only furnishings.
As she switched off the answering machine and hung her stone-coloured mac on a hook behind the door, the phone started to chirp.
A woman’s businesslike voice identified herself as being from, ‘Blair Electronics. Mr Blair’s personal assistant…’ and requested immediate help in the form of a competent secretary for the managing director.
Adding, ‘I was advised to ask for a Miss Warrener, if she’s available.’
‘I’m Miss Warrener,’ Annis said, and, a frown tugging at her well-marked brows, queried, ‘But surely I haven’t worked for you before?’
‘No, but I understand you were highly recommended by the sales manager of one of our subsidiaries.’
‘How long will you need my help for?’
‘Miss Winton will be away for a month.’
All the details having been settled, Annis jotted down the address and promised, ‘I’ll be with you inside an hour.’
In a little over forty-five minutes, she was climbing the steps to the Marylebone office block which housed the electronics firm.
At the desk in the foyer she stopped to give her name and state her business.
‘Turn right, then left,’ the frizzy-haired receptionist told her, ‘and you’ll find the MD’s office at the end of the main corridor. Go straight in, Miss Warrener. You’re expected.’
Her heels sinking into the luxurious carpet, Annis made her way down the wide corridor. When she reached the unmarked door at the end, she knocked and walked in, as instructed.
Just inside the threshold she stopped short, feeling as though she’d received a punch in the solar plexus, as she saw the powerfully attractive face of the man sitting behind the leather-topped desk.
The shorn black curls, the green-gold eyes and bony, slightly crooked nose, the wide, thin-lipped mouth and cleft chin, were indelibly printed on her mind. If she never saw him again she would carry his hated image to her grave.
‘Good morning, Annis.’ A smile in those tawny eyes, he added, ‘Close the the door and come and sit down.’
When she made no move to do either, he queried, ‘Did you like the flowers?’
Somehow she found her voice. ‘My next-door neighbour did.’
‘So you gave them away?’
‘What did you expect?’ Without waiting for an answer, she rushed on, ‘And I don’t know what you hope to gain by dragging me here… I can’t afford to play silly games. I’ve a business to run.’
‘So have I. That’s why I need a secretary.’
Trying to ignore the unnerving gaze fixed on her face, she demanded, ‘How did you know where to find me?’
‘Leighton was only too willing to provide any information I wanted. It was really quite amusing… But please do sit down.’
She shook her head. ‘You’ve had your fun. Now I’m going.’
Softly, he said, ‘I think not. We have a verbal contract. You agreed to work for me for a month.’
‘The agreement was that I should work for the managing director of Blair Electronics.’
‘Exactly.’
So this was yet another firm controlled by AP Worldwide.
Feeing the trap closing, she protested, ‘Surely making me come here was just to prove how well you can manipulate people? You don’t really want me to work for you…’
‘Oh, but I do. Since having bronchitis just after Christmas, Miss Winton hasn’t been at all well. I gave her a month’s sick leave, so I require someone to fill her place.’
Annis’s long-lashed almond eyes, beautiful eyes which slanted up a little at the outer corners, were blazing with anger and indignation. ‘You mean you got rid of her on purpose!’
He moved his shoulders in a slight shrug. ‘She needed a holiday. A few weeks’ complete rest will do her a world of good.’
Reading Annis’s mind with frightening accuracy, he went on, ‘Of course I can’t force you to stay. But you seem to be building up a nice little business, and if you value it you’d be wise to think carefully before doing anything rash.’
‘That sounds remarkably like a threat.’ Her voice shook a little as it was borne on her what power a man like him could wield.
‘Merely good advice,’ he said smoothly. ‘After all, what’s a month?’
As he spoke he got to his feet and strode over. A moment later he had closed the door, relieved her of her scarf and mac, and was ushering her to a chair.
It was done with such cool assurance that she was sitting down before she had time to weigh up what possible damage he could do Help if she ignored his ‘good advice’.
Resuming his own seat, he observed, ‘You won’t find the work here too onerous. Apart from letters, all I need is someone to accompany me to meetings and take notes, and to act as my hostess if I do any entertaining.’ Casually, he added, ‘It will give you a chance to get to know me.’
‘I don’t want to get to know you,’ she informed him icily.
‘Then I’ll have to see what I can do to change your mind… Now to business. I don’t always tape record—’ he pushed a pad and pencil towards her ‘—so how’s your shorthand?’
‘Slow and inaccurate,’ she informed him sweetly.
He laughed, as if genuinely amused, then, eyes gleaming devilishly, suggested, ‘Well if you prefer, I’ll settle for making use of your other talents.’
Biting her lip, she snatched up the pad and pencil.
They worked without a pause until twelve o’clock. His dictation was fast and decisive, giving no quarter, and she needed every ounce of her concentration to keep up.
All the same she was constantly and acutely aware of the man sitting opposite, of how much she loathed and detested him. Reluctantly aware also of his dark attraction, of the strong pull his magnetism had on her senses.
With a kind of horror she realised that if she hadn’t had such cause to hate him, she might easily have fallen victim to his fascination. Might have found herself hopelessly infatuated with him.
As Maya had been. Maya—the one person Annis had really loved. Her life been a source of wonder to her, her death the greatest of pains. And she had died because of one man—Zan Power.
‘Use my cloakroom if you want to wash and brush up before lunch.’ His voice broke into her thoughts.
