Page 19 of Gamble On Passion

Mike laughed out loud. 'Got you that time. Try page five.'

Rapidly she flicked through the pages, and stopped. With a low groan she collapsed back into her chair and spread the offending page on the desk in front of her. There, in glorious Technicolor, was a picture of herself and Leo leaving the restaurant on Saturday night. But it was the caption that brought the colour to her face. 'Leo Kozakis, once noted for always having a glamorous blonde on his arm, but over the past few years becoming adept at avoiding the Press, has returned to the London scene in style. Miss Jacy Carter, who shared an intimate dinner with the fabulously wealthy Greek, is not only beautiful but—my sources in the City tell me—she is known as a high-flyer in the prestigious firm, the Mutual Save and Trust company—a directorship is not out of the question. Quite a change from Kozakis' usual bimbos. Well done, Leo!'

Of all the patronising, chauvinistic pigs. Jacy swore at the author under her breath. 'Thank you, Mike,' she snapped. Rolling the paper up and throwing it at him, she added, 'Take your rubbish and go.' She was furious and long after Mike had left her office, closing the door quietly behind him, she was still burning with re­sentment. Congratulating Leo! Because she had brains! What a nerve!

Work—that was what she needed; and, deliberately returning her attention to the papers in front of her, she began to read. It was an interesting case. Over the last six months, five hair-care clinics dotted around the country had mysteriously caught fire, all owned by the same firm. The insurance liability was Mutual's but they were very reluctant to pay, and Jacy could see why. The thing smelt to high heaven. Half an hour later she had cooled down enough to call her secretary on the in­tercom and ask apologetically, 'If you see Mike, Mary, tell him I'm sorry for yelling, and if it's not too much trouble can I have a coffee?'

She had over-reacted about the article, she knew. If she was going to continue seeing Leo she would have to get used to this kind of scurrilous Press-reporting; but she couldn't help thinking it was distasteful. Probably it had been an unfortunate choice of restaurant on Saturday. It was noted as a favourite of the Royals—not that there had been any there on Saturday. No doubt some member of the paparazzi, bored after a fruitless vigil outside the restaurant, had sna

pped Leo and Jacy as better than nothing...

Jacy looked up as her office door opened and Mary, her secretary, entered with a coffee-cup in her hand and a broad grin on her plump, friendly face. 'So, tell all, do. Is Kozakis as good as they say?'

'Not you too, Mary, please.' Taking the cup, Jacy swallowed thirstily before replacing it on the saucer and looking up into the laughing blue eyes of her secretary. 'All right, Mary. For the office grape-vine, and to avoid any exaggeration, yes, I do know Leo Kozakis. I've known him since I was a teenager and we're just good friends. Got that?'

'Yes, ma'am! Whatever you say!' She saluted cheekily and added, 'By the way, Liz rang and said would you call her back after one?'

Jacy worked through her lunch-hour, only grabbing a couple of sandwiches from the staff canteen, and, having eaten them, she reluctantly called Liz. No doubt her friend had seen the same paper, and wanted a blow by blow account. But in that she was wrong.

'Hi! Jacy, listen, I can't stop now, I have to dash-it's my afternoon helping out at the day-nursery. But I'm coming up to London on Wednesday. Can we meet for lunch?'

Jacy happily agreed, and arranged the time and place then spent the rest of the afternoon studying the case before her. At four a surprising development had her re-planning her week. A call from the head-office in Manchester of the hair-care clinic revealed that on the Sunday night a bottling-plant they owned had been burned down.

Drastic action was called for, Jacy decided, and after meeting with her immediate superior, Mr Brown, it was agreed that she should travel to the north-west at the earliest opportunity. As she left the office that night Mr Brown's instructions echoed in her head. 'And don't come back until you've solved it, Jacy.'

A rueful grimace curved her full lips as she drove home. After consulting her desk diary, she realised that the earliest she could get away was Thursday. And where did that leave her relationship with Leo? He would probably be back in London and she would be stuck up in Manchester.

By eleven o'clock that night, Jacy's cautious op­timism of the previous evening—that perhaps this time she could handle an adult relationship with Leo Kozakis—had dwindled to nothing. She had hovered over the telephone all night until finally, at midnight, she'd climbed into her lonely bed, calling herself fifty kinds of fool. She had exposed herself to the gutter Press, risked her business reputation, and almost allowed Leo to make love to her again. And all for nothing. She ob­viously meant no more to him than any other woman he had dated. His promise to call her was just so much guff.

She burrowed down under the duvet and curled up in a little ball, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears that threatened to fall. She had vowed ten years ago not to shed another tear over Leo, and she had held true to that vow until now. She was damned if she was going to weep over the man again, she told herself, but that didn't stop a single drop of moisture easing between her long lashes. With a hard hand she brushed her cheek. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she castigated herself.

Then the telephone rang. In her haste to answer it, her travelling-clock was knocked off the bedside table, but she barely noticed as breathlessly she said, 'Hello...'

'Jacy. Leo here.' His rich, dark voice echoed down the telephone-wire as clear as if he were in the room with her.

Jacy's heart skipped a beat and then raced like crazy.

'Jacy, are you there?' Leo demanded urgently.

'Do you know what time it is?' she blurted, finally managing to speak. 'Almost one in the morning, and I was in the papers today—you as well.' She was babbling but she could not seem to stop. 'I don't...'

'Jacy, calm down and forget about the papers. It means nothing.' Leo cut in hardly and then, in a much softer tone, apologised. 'I'm sorry—I forgot about the time-zone. It's a lovely sunny afternoon in California.'

'It's a miserable wet night here, and I'm in bed.'

'I hope you're alone, and missing me,' Leo drawled softly.

'I'm certainly alone, and as for missing you...' she almost said yes but substituted '... maybe.'

I suppose I can be content with alone, and maybe,' he responded roughly, satisfaction evident in his tone. 'But the frustration is killing me after last night and what nearly happened. A few more minutes and you would have been mine again. God! I wish I was there with you now.'

'It would be a tight squeeze,' she teased, thinking— keep it light, sophisticated. 'I'm in bed and it's only a single.'

'Oh, I'm sure if I tucked you underneath me we could manage,' he drawled sexily.

Her stomach clenched with an ache of longing so fierce that she groaned out loud, and Leo recognised the sound.

'Don't do that, Jacy. Not when I am half a world away and unable to cover your sensuous mouth with mine and swallow those aroused, erotic little noises you make that turn me inside out.'

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