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‘Perhaps because you can see some profit in it…’
She threw back her head and glared at him. ‘I don’t like what you’re suggesting—’
‘Neither do I.’ His voice bristled with hostility. ‘I don’t like the idea that you’re targeting a vulnerable old man behind his family’s back.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said, immediately on the defensive.
He pulled her closer as she tried to lean away from his accusing face. ‘You’ve persuaded him to spend a large amount of money on this so-called studio for you already, according to Mrs C—’
‘I didn’t, your uncle did it as a surprise, out of the goodness of his heart,’ she protested stoutly, remembrance of her own misgivings leaking into her voice, spurring his predatory suspicion.
‘Rather a big surprise from someone who’s always been extremely cautious with his money. Uncle Peter was never big into charity before—’
‘It’s not charity,’ she flared as he pressed on the open wound. ‘I’m going to be doing my restoration work here. I did offer to pay him back—’
‘And I’ll bet he refused,’ he guessed shrewdly.
‘Out of compassion for my situation,’ she said through gritted teeth. ‘Mrs Cooper must have mentioned the fire—’
‘Ah, yes, your big sob story…’
‘It’s not a story. It happened—it even made the news, for goodness sake. Look it up if you want to! And as a friend, Peter offered to help me out.’
‘And of course you couldn’t refuse your very generous new friend—or should we call him a benefactor?’
‘Not so new. We’ve known each other for a few years—’
‘Strange that I didn’t see you at Rose’s funeral, then.’
‘I—we—unfortunately, I couldn’t be there,’ she said, faltering under the battery of his focused aggression. ‘My grandfather was very ill at the time—’
‘Not so ill that you couldn’t take time off to play party-girl a few days before.’
‘He had a fall,’ was all she said, lifting her chin, refusing to dignify his slur with a more comprehensive explanation of the infirmities that had made James Quest’s last few years of life increasingly difficult for both of them. ‘Grandfather and I sent a card, and flowers. Peter understood. And later, I came to visit…’
‘And started to worm your way into his confidence.’
‘It wasn’t like that.’ Under pressure of his controlling hand she gripped his arm and squeezed. It made no more impression than if she had been pressing an iron bar. ‘Would you mind letting go of my hand, now, please?’
‘Why, what do you want to do with it?’ he goaded, her polite dignity only seeming to infuriate him even further.
‘Don’t tempt me,’ she said, eyeing his arrogant cheekbone.
‘Why not? Are you that easy to distract, Miss Quest?’ he mocked. ‘Are you starting to think I might be a more attractive proposition than my uncle? I’m just as rich, and I’m certainly more capable of giving you a run for my money in bed.’
‘Don’t be disgusting! I told you, we’re just friends.’
‘So how come he’s never mentioned this so-called friendship before? I spoke to Dylan on the way over here, and he said he’d never met you, either. If this relationship is so innocent, why has Peter been hiding you like some dirty little secret?’
‘I don’t know!’ she cried. ‘Maybe because he knows what a suspicious and narrow-minded beast you are!’
‘Is it narrow-minded to be worried when I find my elderly uncle hugging and kissing in the bedroom with a sexy young babe with big blue eyes and even bigger b—’
‘How dare you?’ she spluttered, cutting him off before he could complete the crude remark, while her emotions see-sawed between anger and disbelief. Babe? Sexy? How could he think she was sexy in a baggy shirt, ash-clogged hair and no make-up? She didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. She would obviously never shake that first image he had of her in the fishnet tights and skimpy lace dress.
‘Are you denying it?’
What? Being young, having big blue eyes and breasts that were larger than average—or being sexy? she wondered in wild confusion, then realised he had meant the hugging and kissing.
