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The Final Seduction(9)

By:Sharon Kendrick

       
           



       

'I'm sorry,' said Shelley very stiffly. 'I obviously misunderstood what  you meant.' She discovered that another stupid lump had risen in her  throat, and she swallowed it down like poison. She wondered where he was  living, but was damned if she was going to ask. That might look as  though she cared.

'So what are you planning to do now you're here, Shelley?' asked Jennie. 'Are you back for good?'

It was a question which she was damned if she was going to consider  under the critical eye of Drew Glover. 'I haven't decided what I'm  doing. I'm just going to sit back and take stock for a little while.'

Jennie looked round the hall and shivered. 'Well, it's freezing in here,' she said. 'You can't possibly stay here tonight.'

'I've suggested to Shelley that she stay at the Westward,' Drew put in.  'That's the only place where she'd be likely to get a room at this time  of year.' He turned to Shelley, his eyes glinting with devilment. 'And  if the car you're driving is anything to go by, then you shouldn't have a  problem affording it.'

'A problem?' she snapped. 'I think I can just about afford the Westward's prices!'

Jennie screwed her face up. 'Though I suppose there's no reason why I shouldn't offer to put you up for a couple of nights.'

A look passed between brother and sister. Did Shelley imagine it, or did  Drew shake his head very slightly? 'I don't think that's a good idea,'  he said softly.

He looked at her in that unhurried and insulting way he seemed to have  perfected, his eyes flickering from the tip of her expensive leather  boots up to the small diamond which glittered on a platinum chain at her  throat and which matched the thin bangle at her wrist. 'I think that  Shelley has become too much of a hothouse flower to ever consider  staying with you, Jennie!'

Shelley blushed. 'Oh, please! By implying that I'm a snob-which I'm  not-you have also managed to insult your sister!' She glared at him.  'Besides which, I don't need you to answer for me, Drew!'

Jennie gave a small smile. 'It's not insulting,' she told Shelley. 'Drew's right. It is a bit cramped in there.'

Shelley wondered how that could be. Five of them used to live there-and  if their parents and Drew and Cathy had all gone then that left two  spare bedrooms, according to Shelley's calculations. But now did not  seem a good time to ask. And besides, she really didn't want to stay  with Drew's sister. Jennie would doubtless paint a rosy picture of how  wonderful his life had been without her and she didn't think she could  face hearing it. Not at the moment.

'I'm sure it isn't cramped,' she said briskly. 'I spent many happy years  growing up here and I'm the last person who would ever turn their nose  up at a small house. But Drew's right. I wouldn't dream of imposing on  you.'

'I'll tell you what, Jennie,' said Drew, in a lazy voice which  nonetheless sounded very like a command. 'Why don't you take Shelley  home and give her a cup of tea, while I drive on up to the Westward and  see if they have a room for her?'

Shelley met his forceful blue stare. 'You don't have to do that for me.'

'I know I don't,' came the silky reply.

'Then why?'

'Like I said,' he drawled, 'I seem to be stuck with this annoying streak  of chivalry and at heart I guess I'm just a gentleman. The Westward is  full for most of the year now-and I wouldn't want you going up there on a  wild-goose chase-not if they don't have a room.'

She looked at him assessingly. 'I'm not sure I believe you.'

'Well, whether you do or whether you don't, the fact remains that you still need a warm bed for the night-'

'There's always the telephone,' murmured Shelley, unwilling to be obligated to him. 'Why don't we ring them and see?'

He shook his head. 'Oh, no!' he argued softly. 'The telephone is never  as effective as face-to-face contact-surely you must have learnt that by  now, Shelley! So why don't you let me go and sweet-talk them into  giving you one?'

'Sweet-talk them? And how will you do that?' she laughed. 'You've got friends in high places now, have you, Drew?'

Only the merest quirk of his mouth betrayed his irritation. 'Oh, I've  done a bit of work for them, off and on over the years. They've always  treated their tradesmen well.'                       
       
           



       

'I'll go and put the kettle on.' Jennie giggled. 'Come next door and have some tea with me, Shelley. You're very welcome.'

Shelley nodded. 'I will. Thank you.'

'Wait for me, Jennie,' Drew murmured, then turned back to Shelley. 'Why  don't we leave you to lock up at your own pace? Maybe you still want a  little time to get reacquainted with the house, after such a long time  away,' he suggested, with such apparent good sense that Shelley felt she  had no choice but to agree. She couldn't put her finger on it, but she  had the distinct impression she was being manipulated-but quite frankly  she was too tired to object.

She stood at the window and watched them go, feeling that her heart  might break as he walked with his sister back down the road of their  childhood.





CHAPTER FIVE




SHELLEY opened all the bedroom windows and a small one in the bathroom,  catching an unexpected glimpse of herself in the hall mirror as she went  back downstairs.

She shuddered and halted in her tracks. What a sight she looked!

In the two days since she had been travelling she hadn't given a thought  to her appearance, and my-how it showed! If she had thought that Jennie  Glover wasn't looking her best, then Drew's sister must have been  having similar thoughts about her. She looked as if she had been through  the mill and back.

Her face was pale and pinched and the short, usually immaculate hair  looked far from immaculate-the wind had swept it out of shape and it  badly needed the attention of a hairdresser. She squinted at her  reflection-at aquamarine eyes which were smudged with mascara, with  shadows of fatigue beneath, like dark blue thumb-prints. No wonder Drew  had been so rude about her appearance.

She found her soap bag and cleansed her face, brushed her teeth and ran  her fingers through her hair. When she had finished she felt a bit  better. Not much-but it was a start.

What she wanted more than anything else was a long, hot bath and to put  her head on a feather-down pillow and sleep for a week. But in the  meantime she would settle for a cup of tea with Jennie.

Locking the door behind her, she made her way to the house next door,  and Jennie must have been looking out for her, for she opened the front  door before Shelley had a chance to knock. She had run a comb through  her hair and applied a coat of pink lipstick and Shelley thought that  she looked much better, though there was still that sense of defeat  which made her eyes look so hollow.

'Come in,' she said. 'Only excuse the mess!'

Shelley stepped inside the house and the first thing that struck her was how different it felt from the house she remembered.

For a start, it was deliciously warm-like a tropical paradise compared  to the icy temperature of her own house-with slim, top-of-the-range  radiators shimmering out their heat.

She wriggled her shoulders luxuriously. 'It feels fantastic in here,  Jennie-so lovely and warm.' She looked around the hall. 'And it's  beautifully decorated, too.'

'Why, thank you! Come into the sitting room-it's even nicer in there,' smiled Jennie. 'And I've made a tray of tea.'

'Lead me to it!' murmured Shelley.

The sitting room was immaculate, with freshly painted walls and an  expensive-looking carpet covering the floor. There were two terracotta  sofas, with jade-green cushions scattered over them, and, in the centre  of the room, a coffee-table on which stood a tray of tea and biscuits.

On the sideboard stood a large, silver-framed portrait of a baby in a  white cotton dress, with dark curls of hair fizzing around her face. Was  that Cathy's baby? Shelley wondered.

'Sit down,' said Jennie.

'Thanks!' Shelley sank thankfully down onto one of the sofas. 'Though  I'm so tired that I wonder whether I'll ever be able to get up again!'  She looked around. 'This room is amazing, Jennie-it looks twice the size  of mine! You must have spent a lot of time or a lot of money doing it  up-or both!'

'Oh, that was Drew, not me,' Jennie explained as she poured the milk  out. 'I had to go into hospital, and while I was there he arranged for  the house to be modernised. Heating, carpets, curtains. The lot. It was  such a surprise when I came home!'

Shelley's lips formed a reluctant O. 'Generous of him,' she commented reluctantly.

Jennie frowned. 'He is very generous-surely you've noticed that before!'

'Well, of course I have! I was engaged to the man, Jennie-and I got to  know his good points pretty well.' Something stirred deep in her  subconscious. 'Does he pay for your garden to be done, too?' she asked  suddenly.