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Authors: Rosemary Carter
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came to her through the darkness. 'How did your date go?'
'Date?' For a moment Kelly was puzzled. 'Oh, you mean my drink with Andrew Lang? Good heavens, that wasn't a date 1'
'No?' he drawled. 'Seems to me you'd arranged to meet after dinner. And since the man had made no effort to join his colleagues he was obviously waiting for you.'
'Why should it matter to you?' she threw at him.
'It doesn't,' came the crisp rejoinder. 'But I wonder what your fiance would make of it?'
'Gary trusts me,' Kelly said icily. 'I told you that before.'
'So you did.' There was no missing the derision.
She bit her lip. 'Why do you hate us so much?'
'Hate?' He shrugged. 'I don't hate you, Kelly. I don't hate Gary either.'
'But you despise us.'
There was no softening in his tone as he made no effort to deny it. 'Let's just say that I have no time for a bunch of parasites.'
'That's how you see us?' she asked, when she had caught her breath.
'What would you think of a man who allows his rich fiancde to use her money to get him whatever he wants? Who thinks it a good idea that she spend some more to appease her conscience and his?' He paused. 'Or were you only trying to appease your own conscience?' His voice changed as she stiffened. 'Your silence speaks for itself.'
'I won't even try to defend Gary to you,' Kelly said bitterly. And then, became she could not seem to help herself, 'You really consider me a parasite?'
'What else? Have you ever done a decent day's work before today?'
She was silent. No point in telling this arrogant man of the volunteer work she did at the hospital four days each week, when she visited sick children and spent many hours reading to them and helping them with their school work. He would not believe her. And if he did, he would not care.
'Have you ever really known who your friends were?' The question was unexpected. It also held a depth of understanding which defied Kelly to brush it aside with an untruth.
'Sometimes,' she replied guardedly. 'I know that Gary wants me for myself.'
He would return with a sarcastic comment, she thought, and braced herself to meet it. When he remained silent, she asked curiously, 'And you, Nicholas, does it mean anything to you that I'm Robert Stanwick's daughter?'
'Not a thing,' came the indifferent answer. 'Disappointed?'
'No,' Kelly said simply. She did not tell him that she was filled with a strange kind of elation. For a moment it did not matter that he did not like her, that he made no secret of his contempt. After years of men who fawned on her, who danced to her every whim, it was a novelty to come up against a man who was so strong, so self-sufficient, that social subterfuge was beneath him.
She was acutely aware of him, standing so near her in the darkness. She knew already how it felt to be in his arms. But it seemed that he did not even need to touch her for her senses to react to him. There was something primitive and basic about him, a compelling maleness which was so intoxicating that it called forth an answering response from deep inside her, a response that was just as basic, and intensely female. A response which she had not even known existed.
He was so near to her that she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. And knew that it was what she did want. The depth of her wanting frightened her. Kelly had always prided herself on her common sense, on the fact that she had both feet firmly on the ground, that she was in control of her emotions. She had thought she knew herself so well. It came as a distinct shock to find that she did not know herself at all, to know that if Nicholas were to reach for her in the darkness she might not have the strength to resist him.
'Goodnight,' she said, glad that she was able to keep her voice so matter-of-fact. Even Nicholas could not guess at the turmoil raging inside her. 'I'm off to bed.'
'As we're going the same way,' he said, falling in to step beside her, 'we may as well go there together.'
She stopped
'Date?' For a moment Kelly was puzzled. 'Oh, you mean my drink with Andrew Lang? Good heavens, that wasn't a date 1'
'No?' he drawled. 'Seems to me you'd arranged to meet after dinner. And since the man had made no effort to join his colleagues he was obviously waiting for you.'
'Why should it matter to you?' she threw at him.
'It doesn't,' came the crisp rejoinder. 'But I wonder what your fiance would make of it?'
'Gary trusts me,' Kelly said icily. 'I told you that before.'
'So you did.' There was no missing the derision.
She bit her lip. 'Why do you hate us so much?'
'Hate?' He shrugged. 'I don't hate you, Kelly. I don't hate Gary either.'
'But you despise us.'
There was no softening in his tone as he made no effort to deny it. 'Let's just say that I have no time for a bunch of parasites.'
'That's how you see us?' she asked, when she had caught her breath.
'What would you think of a man who allows his rich fiancde to use her money to get him whatever he wants? Who thinks it a good idea that she spend some more to appease her conscience and his?' He paused. 'Or were you only trying to appease your own conscience?' His voice changed as she stiffened. 'Your silence speaks for itself.'
'I won't even try to defend Gary to you,' Kelly said bitterly. And then, became she could not seem to help herself, 'You really consider me a parasite?'
'What else? Have you ever done a decent day's work before today?'
She was silent. No point in telling this arrogant man of the volunteer work she did at the hospital four days each week, when she visited sick children and spent many hours reading to them and helping them with their school work. He would not believe her. And if he did, he would not care.
'Have you ever really known who your friends were?' The question was unexpected. It also held a depth of understanding which defied Kelly to brush it aside with an untruth.
'Sometimes,' she replied guardedly. 'I know that Gary wants me for myself.'
He would return with a sarcastic comment, she thought, and braced herself to meet it. When he remained silent, she asked curiously, 'And you, Nicholas, does it mean anything to you that I'm Robert Stanwick's daughter?'
'Not a thing,' came the indifferent answer. 'Disappointed?'
'No,' Kelly said simply. She did not tell him that she was filled with a strange kind of elation. For a moment it did not matter that he did not like her, that he made no secret of his contempt. After years of men who fawned on her, who danced to her every whim, it was a novelty to come up against a man who was so strong, so self-sufficient, that social subterfuge was beneath him.
She was acutely aware of him, standing so near her in the darkness. She knew already how it felt to be in his arms. But it seemed that he did not even need to touch her for her senses to react to him. There was something primitive and basic about him, a compelling maleness which was so intoxicating that it called forth an answering response from deep inside her, a response that was just as basic, and intensely female. A response which she had not even known existed.
He was so near to her that she could reach out and touch him if she wanted. And knew that it was what she did want. The depth of her wanting frightened her. Kelly had always prided herself on her common sense, on the fact that she had both feet firmly on the ground, that she was in control of her emotions. She had thought she knew herself so well. It came as a distinct shock to find that she did not know herself at all, to know that if Nicholas were to reach for her in the darkness she might not have the strength to resist him.
'Goodnight,' she said, glad that she was able to keep her voice so matter-of-fact. Even Nicholas could not guess at the turmoil raging inside her. 'I'm off to bed.'
'As we're going the same way,' he said, falling in to step beside her, 'we may as well go there together.'
She stopped
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