Rival Attractions & Innocent Secretary(4)

She couldn't sell it in its present unappealing state, she decided  grimly, mentally comparing it to the homes of her friends. She had  several friends who had performed wonders with houses initially far more  unprepossessing than hers. She would have to ask their advice. She  certainly didn't have the time herself to search for fabrics and wall  coverings, to engage workmen and choose fitments …

But she might have, if the new agency took too much of her business. A  cold finger of apprehension seemed to touch her spine, a tiny icicle of  fear. There was enough business for both of them, surely? She couldn't  let her father down by losing everything he had worked so hard for.  Shrugging her disquiet aside, she headed for the stairs, making a mental  decision to lose no time in seeking the help of her friends in  revamping the house.

It was almost as though in making that decision she was forcing herself  to believe that, despite this newcomer, her own agency would survive.  She had to have that belief in herself, she acknowledged wryly as she  opened her bedroom door, because there was certainly no one in her life  to have that faith in her.

Disliking her mood of self-pity, she grimaced mockingly at her  reflection in the mirror. What was the matter with her? She had looked  into a pair of navy-blue eyes and suddenly become aware of the fact that  she was a woman and very much alone. Was she going through some sort of  emotional crisis? Some sort of watershed? She was perfectly happy with  her life the way it was, for goodness' sake. The owner of the blue eyes  was not even the kind of man who appealed to her. He had been too  good-looking, for one thing … too assured … too male.

A tiny shiver touched her, exposing a hidden raw spot of unhealed pain.  She was well aware that such a sensual man would never be attracted to a  woman like her, that he would not find her feminine and soft enough,  that he would be antipathetic to her independence, her staunch  determination to be seen as a human being and not a woman.

No, he was the kind of man who gravitated more naturally to the Vanessas  of this world, to the sugar and spice of the softness that in reality  cloaked a sharp hardness that was far more dangerous than her own gritty  independence. At least she was honest, and made no attempts to conceal  what she was.

The Vanessas of this world pretended to a vulnerability they did not  actually possess, using it to pander to the male ego. By rights she  ought to despise both them and the men who were stupid enough to fall  for their deceit. Angry with herself, she turned away from the mirror  and hurried into her bathroom.

If she was not going to be late, she'd better shower and wash her hair.





CHAPTER TWO


CHARLOTTE was late. The Volvo had been reluctant to start. It had  originally been her father's car, and when she had come home, giving up  her job and her life in London, she had automatically started using it.                       
       
           



       

Somehow or other she had never got round to replacing it, but now she  recognised, as she drove skilfully towards the Jameses' house, that she  was going to have to think about doing so.

She thought enviously about the sleek dark blue Jaguar, and then  dismissed this fantasy from her mind. What she needed was something  sturdy and sensible, not something glamorous and powerful.

When she reached the Jameses' house it was to find the circular drive  already packed with parked cars. Under the illumination of the expensive  reproduction lights, the lawn looked as smooth and immaculate as a  newly laid carpet. The gardens to the rear of the house had, only last  summer, been expensively and extensively redesigned by a fashionable  London firm; the gravel beneath the Volvo's wheels had been specially  chosen to tone with the stone of the house.

Charlotte knew all these things because Vanessa always made a point of  announcing and describing at great length whatever renovations she was  currently engaged in. As she climbed out of the Volvo, Charlotte  wondered why it was that she allowed the other woman to needle her so  much.

It was Adam who opened the door to her knock. He gave her a warm smile  as she stepped inside, and kissed her on the cheek. Vanessa appeared in  the hallway just as he was doing so, her eyes sharpening as they studied  the warmth in her husband's eyes as he welcomed their last guest.

'Charlie. At last. In a rush, were you?'Vanessa asked sweetly as she  hurried her into the drawing-room, adding in a light and very audible  voice, 'You must come with me the next time I go to London. I know a  couple of places where they specialise in fitting difficult figures.'

Charlotte knew that her black velvet skirt was out of fashion. She did  not have many evening clothes, having limited opportunity to wear them,  but Vanessa's gibe about her appearance had been bitchily unnecessary.  She might not have Vanessa's small, curvaceous femininity, but there was  nothing 'difficult' about her figure. She was on the thin side, yes,  but fitted easily into standard size ten clothes and never had the  slightest trouble buying things off the peg, which was probably more  than could be said for Vanessa, who seemed to purposely choose clothes  which drew attention to her small waist and disproportionately full  breasts.

Charlotte knew it was illogical to suddenly become aware of the fact  that her breasts were perhaps a little on the small side; it wasn't  something that had ever particularly bothered her, apart from once or  twice during their engagement when Gordon had admiringly commented on  the more generous charms of other women, but, illogical or not, she  discovered that she was suddenly hunching her shoulders, as though  trying to conceal her upper body from any curious glances.

Irritated with herself, she straightened up. It was idiotic to let Vanessa get to her like this.

'Mind you,' Vanessa continued maliciously, 'I suppose you'll be far too  busy to go to London now that the new agency is opening up. I've told  Adam that we must have this place revalued. We've really done everything  with it that we can, and I rather fancy something a little larger. With  this influx of people from London, we're bound to get a good price.'

She gave a complacent laugh which grated on Charlotte's ears, making her  snap acidly, 'The increase in prices might be good news to you,  Vanessa, but you seem to forget that, the moment prices start to  increase, it means that young couples down at the bottom of the salary  scale are priced out of the market and often forced to move away from an  area where they might have lived all their lives. And it doesn't help  when prices are driven up even further by greedy agents, who  deliberately foster an upsurge in prices for their own benefit, without  thinking about the unhappiness they're causing. If you really want my  opinion, the kind of agent who cold-bloodedly opens up just to cash in  on a boom area is quite despicable. They don't care about the misery  they're going to cause to local people.'

'Well, of course you're bound to feel resentful,' Vanessa cooed, plainly  delighted by Charlotte's outburst, and too late Charlotte realised her  own stupidity.

It was too late to recall her words now, she realised, too late to do  anything at all, as Vanessa suddenly smiled at someone over Charlotte's  shoulder and said softly, 'Oliver …  there you are. Come and meet  Charlotte Spencer, although I'm afraid you won't get a very warm  reception, and I must warn you that Charlotte has the reputation of  being something of a man-hater.' Vanessa gave a light, tinkling laugh  that grated on Charlotte's nerves. 'She's just been sounding off about  the fact that you're opening up in competition to her. I don't think  she's very pleased about it. But then I suppose that's understandable  when you haven't been used to competition. Personally, I'm all for it.'                       
       
           



       

Charlotte struggled to control her anger and her chagrin. She wouldn't  be in the least surprised if Vanessa had deliberately planned this,  deliberately inveigled her into that outburst of righteous indignation  so that she could make a fool of her, although honesty compelled  Charlotte to admit that she had more than ably helped her. Why on earth  hadn't she kept her thoughts to herself? Why allow Vanessa to provoke  her? She felt humiliated and embarrassed, and was dreading turning round  and facing 'Oliver', who, no matter what she might think of his  business methods, deserved at least to be treated with the cordiality  due to a newcomer to the area.

Gritting her teeth, she forced a smile to her mouth and turned round.

The stilted words of apology died on her lips as she found herself  confronting the driver of the Jaguar car. Now close up, she saw that his  eyes were even more astonishingly dark blue than she had thought, and  that at close quarters his maleness was every bit as formidable as she  had imagined.