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‘Just before you leave my dear, there’s someone I should like you to meet.’
For one dreadful moment Selina thought he must mean his wife; that was something she wasn’t ready for—not yet—but she realised almost instantly that that was hardly likely. He reached out and pressed his intercom. ‘Would you ask Mr Gresham if he could spare us a moment please, Sue?’ he instructed his secretary.
‘I’d like you to meet Piers before you leave,’ he told Selina with a smile, ‘you and he will be working quite closely together at times—as well as his own briefs, he does a great deal of work for me.’ He broke off as the door was thrust open, Selina turning automatically to witness the entrance of the man he was talking about. Tall, even taller than her father, he combined an intensely powerful sexual aura with an air of cool hauteur that Selina found instantly intimidating. It was all too easy to imagine his effect on a jury—or on a witness—and Selina shuddered finely without realising she was doing so.
Heavy eyelids lifted to reveal eyes of a startlingly deep shade of blue, which studied and dissected her with a scrutiny as powerfully honed and as icy cold as polished steel. Just the effort of holding that penetrating stare made her muscles ache with tension.
‘Piers, come in and meet my new assistant.’
Sir Gerald put a friendly hand on the younger man’s arm as he went forward to meet him. The family resemblance was slight, but there none the less, although Selina suspected that even in his youth her father could never have possessed the cold demeanour that was so evident in his nephew.
‘Miss Thorn.’ His voice was cool too, cool and deep, and just hearing it brought a rash of goosebumps up under her skin. He obviously knew about her already since he knew her name, and Selina was annoyed to find herself almost reluctant to accept the hand he held out towards her. The touch of his fingers was warm, the sensation of his skin against her own so acute that she badly wanted to pull away. He emanated a raw sexuality that made Selina feel uncomfortable. She had come across it before, but had always shied away from such men fearing them instinctively, although she had learned to disguise her fear as contempt. She did so now, without realising what she was doing. Her eyes and mouth cold, her chin tilted at a defiant angle. The swing of her blonde hair revealed the slender length of her throat, her formal business suit emphasising the slender seductiveness of her body.
‘Have we met somewhere before?’
His question over-balanced her, her eyes unknowingly widening and turning a dark smouldering grey as she was forced to look back at him.
‘No…no I don’t think so.’ They had never met before, and he must know it so why…
Sir Gerald’s laughter interrupted her worried thoughts. ‘Not a very original line, Piers, although I must say I don’t blame you for trying.’
Selina was pretty sure that nothing had been further from Piers Gresham’s mind than making a pass at her. She didn’t normally appeal to men of his type and she had always taken care that she should not do so. It was on the tip of her tongue to suggest that what her cousin saw in her was a family likeness, but to do so would be the utmost folly. That she should consider the risk almost worthwhile simply to see the expression on his face warned her that she was reacting far too much to him.
After a few minutes brief conversation Piers Gresham left them, and once he had gone Selina found it a good deal easier to relax. Before her interview her sole worry had been that her father might somehow recognise her and she had not really thought beyond that. Now she had been made uncomfortably aware of the fact that her emotional response to her father was not going to be her only problem. Would she be able to work with Piers Gresham without allowing her sexual fear of him to surface? Men like Piers Gresham possessed a masculinity they couldn’t resist reinforcing, just as her father hadn’t been able to resist the temptation of her mother. It would have been easier to bear if her mother had been merely a victim in the whole shabby affair rather than a participant, but her mother herself had admitted to her that she had been determined that her lover should marry her; and that he should desert his children and divorce his wife in order to do so.
‘Why not?’ she had demanded of Selina, sensing her distaste. ‘It’s no more than many other men have done.’
Her mother had been a very selfish woman, Selina acknowledged inwardly, attractive enough to use her looks to get what she wanted from life, but on that occasion she had gambled too high and lost, and she had never let Selina forget that had she known her lover would abandon her, his child would never have been conceived. Once that had hurt, but like all the other pains she had learned to bury it; to deny it life, just as her mother would have denied her life.
She had taken the morning off from her job to go for the interview. There was no secret about it. The judge for whom she worked had encouraged her to apply for the job and had even told her about it. Judge Seaton and his wife were the only two real friends she had, Selina acknowledged as she made her way back to his house. Now semi-retired, he was collating his memoirs and Selina had been helping him. He and his wife had been married fifty years and still found pleasure in one another’s company. Tonight she was going out to dinner with them to celebrate the Judge’s birthday. She wasn’t particularly looking forward to it. Susan Seaton was a motherly woman who couldn’t understand why an attractive girl like her husband’s assistant should so consistently shun the male sex, and Selina had long ago lost the habit of confiding in anyone and was, therefore, unable to tell her.
The Seaton’s house was in a quiet Chelsea mews; elegant and comfortable; a true home Selina reflected as the housekeeper let her in.
‘Good, you’re just in time for lunch,’ her employer exclaimed when he saw her. ‘Come and tell us all about it.’
She did so with the quiet self-control that marked her behaviour. Susan Seaton smiled warmly at her, marvelling at her lack of excitement. At Selina’s age she had already been a mother, but she had never possessed this girl’s cool control. Sometimes it worried her. It was almost unnatural for a girl of her age to be so contained. She had rarely heard her laugh or seen her cry, and she had worked for her husband for three years, living almost as closely as a member of the family.
‘I never thought for a moment that Gerald would turn you down,’ the Judge told her. ‘He’ll make use of your mind,’ he warned her; ‘I know he’s talking about retirement, but he’s still a powerhouse of activity; he’s one of our foremost QCs, with young Piers looking likely to follow in his footsteps. Now there’s a man to reckon with; an excellent defence counsel, but positively lethal in prosecution. He seems to possess an intuition that leads him right to a person’s Achilles heel. He’s as close to Sir Gerald as a son—perhaps closer; in fact I’d say after his mother his uncle is the only other person he’s fond enough of to allow him to sway his judgment. Gerald stepped in and took over the role of surrogate father when his own died. His sister Dulcie was widowed very young. Piers will be taking over from his uncle when Gerald finally retires.’
‘Wait until you meet him,’ Susan Seaton enthused, her eyes sparkling. ‘He is quite devastatingly attractive.’
‘I met him today.’ Selina said it quietly, her head bent over her soup plate. Over her head the older couple exchanged glances.
‘You don’t sound very impressed. He’s a very able, almost an inspired barrister.’
‘He struck me as being rather conceited and sexually domineering,’ Selina said coolly, ‘but it hardly matters what I think. After all we’re not likely to come into much contact with one another.’
‘Don’t be so sure,’ the Judge cautioned her. ‘Gerald relies a good deal on Piers, and since he’s training him to take over from him, I suspect you might find you see quite a lot of him.’
The thought was extremely unpalatable. She had disliked the man on sight, Selina admitted; something about him was as abrasive to her personality as being rubbed with sandpaper; something over and above the fact that he belonged to a type of male ani
mal she most disliked. There had been an instant awareness between them that she couldn’t deny, a look in his eyes that cautioned her to tread carefully, causing her to seethe with resentment that it should be so.
TO celebrate his birthday the Judge had booked a table at one of London’s more exclusive restaurants. Selina left her own small flat in plenty of time to reach the Seaton’s house at the appointed time. Her dress was a plain slip of cream silk she had bought in Brown’s sale. High-necked and long-sleeved, she considered it a suitable addition to her wardrobe, without realising that the silk moved with her as she walked, caressing her elegant body with a sensuality that very few men could remain unaware of. She simply saw it as the right sort of dress to wear out to dinner. She liked good clothes and wore them well; choosing them for elegance and wearability rather than sexual appeal, not knowing that the body they clothed was sexual enticement all by itself. Having taught herself to clamp down on any sexual urges she might feel almost from childhood, Selina was blind to them in others. If she ever happened to catch a man looking at her, studying her, she would look back in an icy disdain that normally made him retreat. The first attempt any male escort made to touch her was always the last. Sex was a weapon that could inflict terrible wounds on the innocent as well as the guilty and it was one she herself would never descend to using. She might be her mother’s daughter, but she would never be branded as she had been. She would succeed without using her body; without betraying her principles. She had to.
The restaurant was busy; a sea of unfamiliar faces; the table to which the Seatons and Selina were shown was slightly secluded from the others.
Susan Seaton ordered her food with relish. In many ways Selina almost envied Susan. She was a happy, contented woman who had devoted her life to her husband and family and who had been repaid in turn by their love and protection.
Beyond the tables and diners there was a small dance floor. Music was provided by an immaculately dinner-suited pianist.
‘My, it quite takes me back,’ Susan sighed nostalgically as they waited for their food. ‘Do you remember, Henry, when we used to go to the Savoy? You took me there for our first wedding anniversary.’
‘And you were sick,’ the Judge smiled.
‘And we both thought it must have been something I’d eaten, until we discovered that I was carrying John.’
The Seatons had three children and several grandchildren. At the weekend they would be driving down to their eldest daughter’s for a family celebration. Selina closed her mind against the thought of it. Family occasions were something that belonged to other people. They had no place in her life.
They were halfway through their meal when the Judge put down his knife and fork and said mildly, ‘Good heavens, talk about coincidences. There’s Piers Gresham.’
‘Where?’ His wife craned her head to look. ‘Who’s that with him?’ she asked. ‘Do you recognise her?’
The Judge shook his head. ‘I’ve no idea who she is.’
Selina glanced up from her food and glanced briefly at the other couple—Piers Gresham was seated several tables away facing her. All she could see of his female companion was her back view, but that was enough for Selina to grimace slightly. The other woman was wearing a dress that revealed most of her tanned back; a dark fall of hair brushing her neck. She was dressed in a way designed to catch a man’s eye, and as always Selina felt her muscles tighten at the sight of such open sexuality. It offended her and she shrank from it, unaware that her distaste was mirrored in her face or that she was being observed. Her reactions to other people’s sexuality always distressed Selina; she knew deep down inside herself they were a legacy from what she had endured as a child; from knowing that she was the fruit of a union that had been motivated on one side by sexual greed and on the other by social avarice but knowing the reason for her reactions did not help her to come to terms with them.
Piers Gresham had obviously seen them. When they had finished eating he came across to their table, urbane and charming as he chatted to the Judge and his wife, but his eyes were constantly assessing Selina, his scrutiny of her making her tense and uneasy.
‘You and Selina met this morning, I believe,’ the Judge said turning to draw her into the conversation. ‘Your uncle is gaining a very valuable aide in her.’
‘I’m sure he is. Perhaps you’d care to dance with me, Selina, and we could get to know one another a little better?’
Other couples were already dancing and the Seatons obviously saw nothing untoward in the invitation because they were both smiling expectantly at her. Across the room her eyes slid to the dark-haired girl waiting at the table and a fierce surge of anger swept over her. Who did he think he was? Some sort of irresistible God who had merely to speak to have women worshipping at his feet? It didn’t strike her that her reaction was wildly illogical; she was possessed by some elemental surge of emotion that warned her that this man was dangerous and to be repudiated at all costs. Without stopping to weigh her words, she said coldly, ‘I’d rather not if you don’t mind.’ Her eyes flicked over to the girl waiting for him, and so she missed the glint of cold anger in his eyes, ‘After all, our relationship is going to be professional rather than social, and I prefer to have things plain from the start. It makes for a much less complicated life.’ She looked straight at him as she delivered her cool words, caught off-guard by the depth of anger she saw in his eyes.
‘That was rather over the top wasn’t it?’ her employer remarked when Piers had gone.
Trying not to flush at the faint criticism in his voice Selina shrugged. ‘He only asked me out of politeness. He already had someone to dance with.’
‘Even so, you rejected him extremely pointedly,’ the Judge told her. ‘No man likes being rejected, Selina,’ he told her gently, ‘especially not in public. Be very careful, my dear. He could make an extremely powerful enemy.’
‘Because I refused to dance with him?’ Selina injected a note of acid scorn into her voice. ‘Wouldn’t that be rather small-minded?’
‘He’s a man, my dear,’ the Judge told her wryly, ‘and we males are notoriously vulnerable where our egos are concerned. We weren’t the only ones to hear you refuse him,’ he added gently, ‘and you must admit that as a put down it was decidedly strong.’
Not wanting to admit even to herself that she had been betrayed into hasty speech because of her own response to his sexuality, Selina shrugged slim shoulders. ‘The odd rejection does none of us any harm from time to time.’ She glanced over to where Piers was now dancing with his companion, and added cynically, ‘I doubt he’ll lose any sleep over it. He seems more than happy with the dancing companion he’s got.’
‘Umm, well tread carefully,’ the Judge warned her. ‘He’s not a man I’d like to get on the wrong side of.’
Instinct had already told Selina that and she couldn’t understand why she had been so rude to him. There had been other men before whom she had disliked equally as much and yet she had managed to conceal it from them. Not so with this man. He had recognised her rejection for what it was; she had seen the realisation flare and burn in his eyes and she shivered sensing that there would be some form of retribution…
Whatever it was she could cope with it. She had coped with similar situations before and emerged unscathed. What she had to do now was to concentrate on getting to know her father so that she could at last free herself from the guilts of the past, because until she did they would continue to poison the present and the future.
CHAPTER TWO
SELINA’S first week in Gerald Harvey’s employ passed quickly. During their interview she had been too wrought up and tense to do much more than concentrate on his questions, but now that she was settling down into the day-to-day routine she found herself watching him; wondering what he would say if he knew the truth; how he would react. She had promised herself long ago that she would never fall into the trap of wanting an emotional commitment from the man who had fathered her and all through her growi
ng up, although she had followed his career, she had never ever allowed herself to think of him as her father—to her he had simply been her mother’s lover; and then her opponent in a battle in which she herself had been used as no more than another weapon. She had never anticipated feeling any emotional response to him; after all why should she; and yet, illogically, it was there; it was disconcerting to discover how easily they meshed and at the end of the first week he turned to her and said warmly.
‘Selina, I’m going to bless the day I hired you. We seem to have achieved a working rapport in a remarkable short space of time. Do you think you’ll be happy with us?’
Happy? Selina tried to analyse the word. What was happiness? She had reached a goal and that in itself brought with it its own sense of achievement, but happy…
‘I’m sure I shall be,’ she told him equably, lowering her head so that he couldn’t see her face. This man was her father; they were united by ties of blood and heritage and yet…
‘Is something bothering you?’
He asked the question quietly, coming to stand immediately behind her, one hand on her arm. There was nothing sexual in his touch; it was merely concern, and Selina was shaken to discover that tears were pricking her eyes.
A sound outside her vision broke the silence between them. Someone had opened the door, and Selina felt her nerves curl in bitter tension as she heard her father say genially, ‘Piers, it’s good to have you back. Did all go well?’
It had been a relief to Selina to discover that Piers Gresham was away for several days. He had gone to stay with his godfather, Sue, Gerald’s secretary, had told her. But now he was back.